A VIGIL.
THE little one took but a few mouthfuls, and then seemed to tire of the
food his mother was so eager to give him.
"He has not eaten much, has he?" she said to Daisy, who was looking on
earnestly.
"Not very much," answered Daisy, "but, you see, it is all strange here.
To-morrow, perhaps, he will know us better."
Mrs. Leigh seemed lost in thought. "Where is Gertrude?" she asked at
last.
"She is helping mother and Mollie to get a bed for him. It is nearly
ready now, I should think."
"I am afraid I ought not to let you take all this trouble," said Mrs.
Leigh. "But—how can I bear to take him out in the cold?"
"Of course not," said Daisy simply. "Mother said so, and so did father."
"I am afraid he is very ill, dear?" she asked appealingly. "His feet
are so thin, and his hands—and so he is all over; nothing is the same
but his eyes and his hair, and even his eyes do not look at me as they
used."
Daisy could not answer. She had heard a few words of Gertrude's
description, and she feared, from her mother's looks of dismay, that
the child's condition was far more serious than Mrs. Leigh supposed.
"Shall I fetch Miss Ashlyn?" she asked in reply.
"Ah, do, please, dear!" said Mrs. Leigh.
She busied herself over her child again till Gertrude came in.
"Ought we not to telegraph to Fritz?" she asked at once. "Poor Fritz!
To think he does not know!"
"I have been thinking so," said Gertrude. "What shall we say, Rose?"
"Tell him he is found!" said Rose.
"Shall I say he is ill?" questioned Gertrude, gently.
"It is hardly worth while," answered Rose; "he will come directly, if
he can."
Gertrude was silent. She could not let her brother-in-law have the joy
without suspecting the sorrow. So she went back to Mr. Shaddock.
"My sister does not seem to take it in yet," she said, after she had
told him about the telegram, "but I must tell Mr. Leigh cautiously—he
is not very strong. I fear it will be a dreadful shock."
So together they framed a message which they hoped would convey their
meaning, and then Gertrude went back to her sister to say that the room
which had been prepared for her was ready.
Rose got up at once, and with her precious charge followed her sister
up-stairs.
On the landing stood Mrs. Shaddock and Mollie, who led the way into the
spare room, where a bright fire gleamed.
"We have warmed the bed," said Mrs. Shaddock. "Dear little man, I long
for him to be in it!"
Rose accepted it all in silence, laying her little boy in the soft,
white sheets, and hovering over him in the luxury of having him once
more to tend.
"Lester!" she said, in her soft tone. "Shall I say your little prayer
as I used?"
She knelt down by the bed, and laid her cheek upon his little hand,
whispering the childish requests which for two long years had not been
on her lips, and then, kissing him tenderly, she covered him up and
moved towards the fire.
Mrs. Shaddock and Gertrude were standing there waiting; Mollie had gone
behind the curtain, and was crying quietly, as if her heart would break.
"I think I will go to bed," said Mrs. Leigh, dreamily. "I feel tired,
somehow. Will you think me very ungrateful if I retire now?"
"Not at all," said Mrs. Shaddock; "your sister will help you, and will
bring you some tea if you will allow her."
"Will you kiss me?" asked Rose. "I do not know how to thank you.
To-morrow I hope I may be able."
Mrs. Shaddock bent over her and gave her the desired kiss, and then
quickly left the room, signing to Mollie to come too.
And thus the eventful day closed for the poor young mother.
She laid her head on the soft pillow, put her hand out to her child's,
and fell at once into a profound and dreamless slumber.
It was midnight when the striking of the clock on the staircase roused
her with its unaccustomed sound.
She sat up in bed, and saw Gertrude reading by the light of a shaded
lamp beside the fire.
"Dear Gertrude!" she said, in a wondering tone. "Is it not very late?"
"Yes, dearest, but I am not tired. Do you want anything? See! Here is
your supper all waiting for you. May I bring it to you?"
Rose took the plate in her hand. But after a moment or two she said, in
her usual natural tone, "Gertrude, I seem as if I had been dreaming,
but it is not a dream that I have my little Lester. And yet, Gertrude,
I wish it could be a dream, that—that—all that has happened!"
She hid her face in her hands.
"Dearest Rose, He who has found our darling will help us to bear all
His will. He will make some way of escape for us!"
"Ah, yes!" she said. "I know that. But oh, what will Fritz say when
the little one does not know him? For me it does not so much matter,
because I have him again. But poor Fritz—poor Fritz! Besides, I can
trust my Lord even in this, but Fritz, he does not know what that
means."
"Good will come out of it," said Gertrude; "this has been so wonderful
that I am sure of that."
She went round the bed, and bent over the sleeping child.
"I think we ought to give him some more food, Rose. Mrs. Shaddock says
he should be fed every two hours. It was for that I stayed up."
[Illustration]
[Illustration]