William's feelings during this time would be impossible to portray in
words. Sometimes anger, sometimes love, sometimes discouragement,
sometimes hope swayed him. There was only one fact of which he was
always sure; he had never before known what abject misery was. He used
to think his home desolate; now he knew the much keener torture of
having his loved one in the same habitation and yet being sternly and
completely banished from her presence. It was even more disheartening
than to have her at a distance.
He worried about Clarissa's health, and the effect so much excitement
might have just at this time, especially, when she had gained strength
so slowly under happier conditions. Sitting alone, he would work himself
into a rage thinking of her injustice to him, when he had meant to do
Augustus the most good that lay in his power. Then the thought would
come "this nervous shock may make her sick, possibly take her from me."
Dinah's assertions did not satisfy him. He wanted to see her. Dinah told
him how his voice and step affected her, and he therefore used extreme
caution about walking within range of her hearing, or speaking loudly.
Augustus' companionship would have been a welcome relief, but he dared
not insist upon it, knowing Clarissa well enough to know she would
misconstrue his motive and come after the boy, if the exertion meant her
death.
Twice he reached the limit of his patience, and he made up his mind to
hypnotize her. He would rather be with his family if they were all
hypnotized, than to be isolated from them. How could he tell what she
would do? She was liable to go away, even before she was able, taking
the children with her.
This thought haunted him until he dared not leave the house. He felt
that he had been a good, loving father and husband; a sick woman's whim
should not separate them and ruin their lives again. It surprised him to
know that Merle and Alice, who had always been such welcome visitors,
were not admitted to see her or the children, and that Augustus was not
permitted to go with them to their home.
He felt he had been lenient long enough. She needed discipline, and he
would give it to her. Never before had he so completely thrown his whole
heart and soul into concentration, as he did now, thinking "She shall do
me credit. She shall send for me." The whole force of his soul was put
into the demand.
Before beginning, he had made up his mind he would not pause nor rest
till Dinah came with a message from Clarissa for him to come to her. One
thing that enraged him to use his power was he had himself plucked her
some rare blossoms, putting them, fraught with the influence of love,
beside the food Dinah was carrying to her. He felt those flowers would
carry to her the thought of his loneliness, and surely she would send
him some token of remembrance. He watched, expecting Dinah would have at
least a message for him when she returned.
He saw her coming, but did not wait for her to reach him, as he saw his
flowers, lying undisturbed where he had placed them. Disappointment, so
keen that it became rage, consumed his soul. He vowed he would break
that haughty, and (he felt) unjust spirit, so he set himself to the
task. How long he sat there he never knew.
He waited for Dinah to call him, and did not notice the approach of
Augustus. He started up as a man in a dream when he heard the agonized
cry:
"Papa, come quick; mamma is dying. Quick. Something is the matter with
baby; that is what frightened mamma so. Do not let them die."
William heard the words. He saw distinctly the boy's horrified and
suffering face, but he could not bring his mind back to the actualities
of the present.
"Papa,--mamma is dying, and sister is dead--"
Without stopping to console or speak to Augustus, William strode rapidly
from the apartment, ascending the stairs with long bounds, and was soon
in his wife's room. No wonder they thought she was dying. He will never
forget that drawn, suffering face. She was sitting up in the bed,
sustained by pillows, panting and gasping for breath, and holding
closely to her, her rigid baby, lifeless and cold. She did not notice
him when he entered, for despite her own suffering, her eyes never left
the baby's face.
"Clarissa."
At the sound of his voice, new strength seemed to come to her. Her eyes
flashed, even while her breathing came shorter and shorter. The words
were separated owing to her difficulty to breathe, but they were clear
and calm.
"You have killed one. Are you satisfied?"
"Clarissa! My God! You think I killed my child?"
"I know it."
"My God! Oh, my God! Clarissa, do not look like that. You shall not
die.--I say you shall not die. Clarissa--Clarissa--You shall not die
cursing me. Clarissa, I defy death to take you. My will is stronger than
yours. Live.--Breathe. Clarissa, I will you to breathe regularly.
Breathe, I say. Breathe. You cannot and shall not leave me. I will you
to breathe."
With his right hand placed upon her heart, he repeated over and over
this command, telling Dinah occasionally to give her stimulants. It was
a fierce struggle, and more than once he felt the utter cessation of her
heart's action. He shook her roughly, even, rubbed her and willed her to
breathe, until he was finally rewarded by noting the heart's action was
becoming more normal and regular, though her eyes had set fixedly, and
her arms refused to support the babe, as in one fierce struggle to
breathe, she put one hand to her throat. That let the baby fall, and
Dinah caught it. She was so distracted herself, she did not think when
she gave it to Augustus, who had just entered.
The boy thought she was dead and his mother was dying. He hugged her
close to him. She was cold; he tried to warm her by the heat of his own
body; he was so frightened he felt no sense of terror, which would have
been the natural sensation with him under different circumstances. He
wanted sympathy he was so frightened, so he held his sister clasped
tightly to him, with his eyes fastened upon his father and mother.
William worked as never before in his life, and gained the victory,
seeing Clarissa pass into a natural sleep.
Then only did he realize the amount of strength he had expended. When
he saw a natural perspiration break out upon her forehead, and her eyes
close in sound, refreshing sleep, he was seized with a strong vertigo.
Dinah brought him a stimulant, and even while he was drinking it, his
eyes did not leave Clarissa's face, and the unmistakable symptoms of
returning physical vigor, as evidenced by her regular breathing, did
more to restore his equanimity than the stimulant itself. The thought of
his children had not once occurred to him.
Augustus had been watching him closely, and knew by the expression upon
his face his mother was not dying, but better. That fact had no more
than made itself clear to him, relieving him from one horror, than he
became aware of the cold dead babe in his arms. His idol, his sister was
dead!
As that thought bore itself home to him, there came an accompanying one.
"Mamma was dying," he thought, "father saved her. He can do what other
men cannot. He can bring her back to life."
His faith in his father was supreme. Death and science were both
mysteries to him, but he had faith in his father's ability to conquer;
he had seen him do it just now. Knowing his mother was all right by the
expression on his father's face, he felt a strong resentment no one,
not even Dinah, had noticed the baby. He was her only friend. He thought
of her if no one else did. He would see to it she had as much attention
as his mother. Women could take care of themselves better than babies.
He hugged it closer to him, growing angry instead of sad, as he felt how
cold she was. He had not one doubt as to his father's ability to do as
well for it as for his mother.
He quickly directed his chair, with one hand, to his father, who did not
look up as he approached, but stooped over Clarissa to test her heart's
action again, although he knew from her breathing it was all right. He
had been under such a tension, such a nervous strain, he was in just
that mental condition where one goes from one extreme to the opposite,
therefore feeling a touch upon his arm, he looked around to see Augustus
with such a look of injured pride upon his face as caused him to feel a
sense of humor. A glad smile brightened his face and he spoke
cheerfully.
"She is going to stay with us a long time yet, my boy. If you had been a
little later--My God! Dead!"
Without a word, Augustus passed the baby forward for his father to take.
William had not thought of the baby. There it lay in his arms,
inanimate, cold--undoubtedly dead. That was what Clarissa had meant when
he entered. Why should she condemn him for murdering it? He had not
thought of the baby so much as he should have done. What would Clarissa
say when she awoke and found her baby dead? One thing he knew; she would
always hold him responsible for her death, though he was as innocent of
it as Augustus.
The dead baby between them meant the loss of Clarissa forever. The
children had always come between them. Her best love was theirs. He at
once made the resolve Clarissa must find that babe alive and warm beside
her when she awoke. He never paused to consider he could not raise the
dead.
This new obstacle restored to him his customary self-control, and
stooping with the babe in his arms, he kissed Clarissa softly and
tenderly, and without a word, placed the baby back in Augustus' arms,
who clasped it tightly to him, looking at his father with that same
injured look William did not try to explain or understand. His mind was
too busy with other thoughts.
He had determined the child should waken. He could not, and would not
bear the unjust stigma of its death. He hastily explained to Dinah he
would soon bring the child to her, and commanded her not to leave
Clarissa, telling her to let him know if there was any change in her.
Dinah's faith in William was as strong as that of Augustus, and, as he
had said that he would bring the baby to her well, she believed him
implicitly. That feat would be no more wonderful than what he had just
done for Mistress Clarissa.
After giving his directions, William leaned over with a pleasant smile,
and took both children in his arms, carrying them to his private room.
On his way, he met James and a strange gentleman. They were going
towards Clarissa's room. To William's surprised look, James answered,
"Master, this is the doctor Mistress sent for. She told me to bring him
to her at once."
A hot wave of emotion passed over William's face, that a strange
physician should be consulted, and have the privilege of entering his
wife's room without his consent. Without looking at the doctor, he said:
"Show him into the reception room. I will be there soon."
"Mistress Clarissa said for me to bring him to her at once."
"She is sleeping. I just left her, and do not wish her disturbed. I will
come to the doctor in--"
"Father! She moved--she moved!"
There was such exultation in Augustus' voice when he spoke, that James
and the stranger, despite their best efforts to look and appear
unconcerned, could not help showing astonishment.
"It is gone now, but she did. Hurry, father, hurry. Make her move
again."
The boy was beside himself with emotion. He was sure he had felt a
nestling motion in his idol. He was impatient to see her eyes open. She
was still cold. He thought she was not quite so cold as she had been.
William noted the looks of astonishment, but felt no desire to explain.
He spoke sharply to James:
"Take the Doctor to the reception room. I will come there as soon as I
have attended to Augustus, who is nervous and excited."
James dared not disobey his master, so he led the physician back, while
William, with his children, went into his study. Augustus was so excited
that his face flushed and his whole body trembled; his eyes flashed
brilliantly.
"She did move, father,--I felt it. Make her move again. She is not so
cold as she was. I want to see her eyes open, father."
"Yes, my son. Now remain quiet. What! You will not trust her to me?"
"I want to hold her."
"Do not hold her so tightly. I cannot work on her if you do. There; now
you can rub her feet, while I do her spine."
"She moved again, father. I felt it. Make her open her eyes."
"No, my boy, we will be content if she sleeps, like her mother. She is
becoming less rigid. Rub them vigorously. There. Her eyes opened just as
her lungs did. We cannot feed her. What shall we do?"
"I knew you would save her, father. I love to hear her cry. She shall
have something to eat. Will you carry us back to mamma, now?"
Without comment, William took them up, and started back, happy that
Clarissa would find her baby beside her, warm and living, when she woke.
Just before they reached her room, Augustus spoke:
"Father, I think sister will have as bad a temper as mine. I like to
hear her cry, but I think she is angry; do not you?"
"It sounds like it, my son."
"I expect she does not realize she would have died if you and I had not
taken care of her. It's a wonder I ever lived to grow up when Dinah is
so careless."
Hearing the baby crying, Dinah immediately took her from Augustus, and
put her beside her mother, who was still sleeping. William put Augustus
in his chair, where he could watch both mother and babe. He turned
toward the bed just in time to see the glad surprise upon Clarissa's
face as she heard the fretful cry of the baby. Never was music so sweet
as that. She drew the baby to her, and as she leaned to kiss her,
William left the room.
He went directly to the reception room, where the doctor was waiting for
him. He was by no means pleased a strange physician had been called in.
If she was ill and unwilling to have him treat her, why did she not send
for Baxter or Harrington? What would they think if they heard of this?
What a position it placed him in. He could not, and would not explain to
any person (even them) this last estrangement in his family. He would
conquer Clarissa's haughty spirit. Now was a good time for him to begin.
Entering the room, he bowed and said:
"I am happy to inform you the indisposition from which my wife was
suffering when she summoned you, has passed away. She is now resting
comfortably. We appreciate your compliance. I will now discharge our
obligation and indebtedness to you, if you will apprise me of the
amount."
The doctor was surprised at his dismissal, without even a look at the
patient, but no more so than at the summons to go to the Professor's
house. He thought it very strange that he should be called there,
knowing the Professor was the intimate friend of several prominent
practitioners. He felt greatly flattered at the call, but now he was
dismissed without so much as seeing the patient.
He quickly took his leave, after expressing gratification at the
recovery of Mrs. Huskins, and receiving a larger fee than he had asked
"as a reward for his promptness," as William told him.
Relieved of his presence, William went back to his study to try to work
out to his own satisfaction, the cause of the horrible scene he had just
passed through. That seemed the only word capable of expressing the
torture of mind he endured when he saw that look so closely resembling
death upon Clarissa's face. How he had fought to conquer that condition.
How many more such problems must he meet? Could he always conquer them
as he had this?