The Sunday herald. [volume] (Washington [D.C.]) 1866-1887, 1882-07-09


son, who was most genuinely panied.
Well, sir" began Mrs White; f" well you
| hadn't been gone above week when IL
seemed TO me that she was getting a bit
| lazy and of her food; but | didn't think
much of that; girls are often that way. Per-
| haps she may have eaten less than noticed.
Lord, when you are as worried rs I am you
can't be counting how many mouthfuls of
| food a child takes to-day and how many TO.
| morrow; there's no fear Of my boys not do
| ing their share. We got some very cold
weather Just at the end Of July, and when
| she was playing at the Crown Theatre IL
| came down one Of these nasty cold rains.
She was much later than usual coming home
that night. She took little bread and beer,
| but | saw she couldn't stomach the cheese;
then sho began shvering and crying, and
| saying she was SO cold. Well, got her TO
bed, but she coughed through tho night. In
the morning she felt very hot, and didn't
seem to know what she was saying, so | sent
| for the doctor--not that In most cases hold
with doctors. He said that she had taken n
bad fcverish cold, and that IL had gone TO
| her lungs. However, sic seemed to get over
| the worst olit only she don't get her strength
up, and sometimes she has bad fits of cough
ing. The doctor says he can't do anything
more"
f" We must do what can he done for her,
Mrs. White suppose | may see her ~
" Yes; and IT. my belief IL will do her good.
| She has often wondered when you would
come back. I'll Just 60 and tell her you're
| here" and away went Mrs. White.
As Clarkson snt in the dreary room, Uttered
| with unwashed things, he Thought very sadly
of the sick girl up stairs. lie was in deep re-
| Election when Mrs. white returned and
showed him up stairs TO Sara's room. II was
q very small ROOM halfway up the
stairs IL had no fire. place: there was
/ lust space for the bed to stand lie
tween the door and window. II looked n
| hard uncomfortable bed on which the sick
| girl lay. Ono hand, which had grown pain
fully thin, rested on Che threadbare covcrct.
Her long, golden hair brushed out, looked
| like sunlight on the pillow.
| " Well Sara, my child" began Clarkson,
| "you haven't much room for receiving visit
ors here, have your II isn't the room
| should desire for an evening party"
| mo, she answered, with n faint sweet
| smile; " and wish the bed wouldn't shake
| so every tim" the door closes"
"I am so glad you have come" Sara went
on, in tone of voice that sounded hollow
and already far away. alt has been so dull;
I've been very ill; can't eat anything now,
and Pm not strong enough to get up; but
I suppose shall some time get stronger, aud
| then shall he all right 7"
| "And hungrier than ever 2"
| "Oh, yes, hrugrer than ever, because
shant have eaten for so long, you know
Please tell me where you have been, and al
about It, Have you been far 7"
He sat down in rclscty chair, and told
her as amusingly as he could, though heavy
at heart, all he thought that would nteres,
her. When he had ratified away for half al
hour she was quite in spirits. She must
have Mrs. White produce the new dress and
hat she bought before her illness out of som,
extra money she had. He admired the hat
| and dress TO the full.
90 must wear them the first Sunday you
take me out agaiu, mustn't II" she said as
simply as n child, and her eyes frightened
al rot something for them all;'' then
rather slyly, "and l got you cigar case
if you don't mind" Here she produced her
| offering. lie took it from her hand, admir-
| ing it, and thanked her.
"I filed it with cigars. Bob got them
they cost three pence each; is that too little
TO pay : They were the best | could get
herc.''
"Little why it's ever so much too much
you dear child. Why, you can get cigar
for a penny"
eyes, but not such as you like to smoke
| He laughed and said that she oughtn't To
spoil him. Then she made him try one, say
| ing it would be like old times, adding very
piteously, IF you don't smoke you will
never like to come to see me again."
"Smolse or not smoke, " he answered gayly
az am coming every day till see you
really better; and tomorrow, as don't think
much of your present doctor, | shall send
down man in whom have confidence. Now
| must be off, shall come round early to
morrow" and, kindly pressing her hand, h,
| was gone.
The next day Sarah received all the com
| forts that an invalid could desire, and earl
| appeared upon the scene the noted anc
kindly DR.. Forman.
"Wcll," asked Mr.. Clarkson, as the ply
| sician came down from the sick room, "wha
do you say 2"
"Say, my dear sir? Alas have moth
ing to say that you would like to hear. AL
| we can do is to make the end as gentle a
possible, and don't think that il can be ia
of"
"Thanl you," said Clarkson, "for com
ing SO far" and there were tears in hi
eyes.
He went to break the sad news to Mrs
| White, who, poor woman, quite broke down
| though through her tears and sobs sh
again and again protested her utter disbelie
in all doctors, and while she was trying t.
calm herself Clarllson went to sit will
Sara.
"What did the doctor say about me p
she asked
" lie said you were ILL.,"
I" Did he say | was going TO die soon ?
want the truth, please; let me have it,"
There was something swelling in Clark
sons throat. He strovo to speak, bu
vainly.
"Plcase tell me-" she entreated; 4"
want to know at once which way it is"
Then Clarkson just managed to articulate
taking her hand in his.
Dear, he does think that you are in grea
danger"
"Thank you; that means I'm going to die.
Then she was silent, but her eyes had il
them strange look, as If they were tryin
to picture the land whittier she was going
At last she said, with n pressure of hi
hand
81 don't mind much | almost think it,
better as it is. You have been always s
good to me. | know you didn't mean me I
care too much for you, and | myself didn
seem to know how II was going till you wen
away this summer; and then | lSncw--whel
| found everything SO hateful just becaus
there was 10 chance oil you-l knew thei
that loved you too much.'
"Sara,r he said, much moved, 81 neve
thought of that as possible; you will believ
that at least"
And indeed he spoke truly. No shade
anything warmer than friendship had eve
stained the purity of his kind feeling for tn
poor, pretty child. With the passion of low
he believed himself done forever, and ii ncve
so much rs crossed his mind that he coult
inspireit In another, least of all in such
one as Sara-so young, SO out of the pale
, all the thoughts and associations of his life
That she could feel toward him other than q
, Il sister toward nm elder brother had neve
crossed his mind. Nor had even Mrs. Whit,
far-seeing woman in her way, foreseen III
slightest possibility of danger TO hcr daugl
tors peace of mind; she was only glad thG
Sara should have so kind friend. a. tru
gentleman," she used to say, " and just a
, much to be trusted as Bank of Englan
, | note,n " How blind he had beenp Ii