"I will go."
"It will be much better for you to see them than for me," returned
my husband, "for you can understand their wants better, and minister
to them more effectually. If they need any comforts, I would like
you to see them supplied."
It still cost me an effort to get ready; but as I had promised that
I would do as my husband wished, the effort. had to be made. By the
time I was prepared to go out, I felt something better. The exertion
I was required to make, tended to disperse slightly the clouds that
hung over me, and, as they began gradually to move, my thoughts
turned, with an awakening interest, toward the object of my
husband's solicitude.
All was silent within the humble abode to which my errand led me. I
knocked lightly, and in a few moments the mother of Edward opened
the door. She looked pale and anxious.
"How is your son, Mrs. Ellis?" I inquired, as I stepped in.
"He is very low, ma'am," she replied.
"Not dangerous, I hope?"
"The fever has left him, but he is as weak as an infant. All his
strength is gone."
"But proper nourishment will restore him, if the disease is broken."
"So the doctor says. But I'm afraid it is too late. He seems to be
sinking every hour. Will you walk up and see him, ma'am?"
I followed Mrs. Ellis up stairs, and into the chamber where the sick
boy lay. I was not surprised at the fear she had expressed, when I
saw Edward's pale, sunken face, and hollow, almost expressionless
eyes. He scarcely noticed my entrance.
"Poor boy!" sighed his mother. "He has had a very sick spell." My
liveliest interest was at once awakened.
"He has been sick indeed!" I replied, as I laid my hand upon his
white forehead. I found that his skin was, cold and damp. The fever
had nearly burned out the vital energies of his system. "Do you give
him much nourishment?"
"He takes a little barley water."
"Has not the doctor ordered wine?"
"Yes, ma'am," replied Mr. Ellis, but she spoke with an air of
hesitation. "He says a spoonful of good wine, three or four times a
day, would be very good for him."
"And you have not given him any?"
"No ma'am,"
"We have some very pure wine, that we always keep for sickness. If
you will step over to our house, and tell Alice to give you a bottle
of it, I will stay with Edward until you return."
How brightly glowed that woman's face, as my words fell upon her
ears!
"Oh, ma'am you are very kind!" said she. "But it will be asking too
much of you to stay here!"
"You did'nt ask it, Mrs. Ellis," I smilingly replied. "I have
offered to stay; so do you go for the wine as quickly as you can,
for Edward needs it very much."
I was not required to say more. In a few minutes I was alone with
the sick boy, who lay almost as still as if death were resting upon
his half closed eye-lids. To some extent, in the half hour I
remained thus in that hushed chamber, did I realize the condition
and feelings of the poor mother whose only son lay gasping at the
very door of death, and all my sympathies were, in consequence,
awakened.
As soon as Mrs. Ellis returned with the wine, about a tea spoonful
of it was diluted, and the glass containing it placed to the sick
lad's lips. The moment its flavor touched his palate, a thrill
seemed to pass through his frame, and he swallowed eagerly.
"It does him good!" said I, speaking warmly, and from an impulse of
pleasure that made my heart glow.
We sat, and looked with silent interest upon the boy's face, and we
did not look in vain, for something like warmth came upon his wan
cheeks, and when I placed my hand again upon his forehead, the
coldness and dampness was gone. The wine had quickened his languid
pulses. I staid an hour longer, and then another spoonful of the
generous wine was given. Its effect was as marked as at first. I
then withdrew from the humble home of the widow and her only child,
promising to see them again in the morning.
When I regained the street and my thoughts, for a moment, reverted
to myself, how did I find all changed. The clouds had been
dispersed--the heavy hand raised from my bosom, I walked with a
freer step. Sympathy for others, and active efforts to do others
good, had expelled the evil spirits from my heart; and now serene
peace had there again her quiet habitation. There was light in every
part of my dwelling when I re-entered it, and I sung cheerfully, as
I prepared, with my own hands, a basket of provisions for the poor
widow.
When my husband returned in the evening, he found me at work,
cheerfully, in my family, and all bright and smiling again. The
effort to do good to others had driven away the darkness from my
spirit, and the sunshine was again upon my countenance, and
reflected from every member of my household.--_Lady's Wreath._