Volume I Part 5 (1/2)
This woman possessed a sweet and gentle nature, and nothing but the evidence of an overwhelming wrong could have so stirred it to sternness. Miser Farebrother was terrified at the threat of bringing a lawyer into the house; and as he had given way to his wife earlier in the day, so now was he compelled by his fears to give way to her sister. He wrote as she directed:
”Mr. Farebrother, of Parksides, urgently requests the doctor to come immediately to his house to see Mrs. Farebrother, who, he fears, is seriously ill.”
He fought against two words--”urgently,” because it might cause the doctor to make a heavier charge; and ”seriously,” because a construction that he had been neglectful might be placed on it. But his sister-in-law was firm, and he wrote as she dictated.
”I will send the lad with it,” said Miser Farebrother.
”I will send him myself,” said his sister-in-law. ”There must not be a moment's delay.”
There was no need for her to seek Tom Barley in the stable; he was sitting up in the kitchen below.
She gave him the letter, and desired him to run as fast as he could to the village and find a doctor, who was to come back with him. If the doctor demurred, and wanted to put it off till the following day, he was to be told that it was a matter of life and death.
Tom Barley was visibly disturbed when he heard this.
”Who is it, lady?” he asked. ”His honour's wife, or the baby?”
”His wife. You're a kind-hearted lad, and won't waste a moment, will you?”
”No, lady; trust me.”
He was not above taking the sixpence she offered him, and he ran out of the house like a shot.
Within the hour he was back with the doctor, whose looks were grave as he examined his patient.
”There is hope, doctor?” said Mrs. Farebrother's sister. ”Tell me there is hope!”
He shook his head, and gently told her she must prepare for the worst.
”She is past prescribing for,” he said. ”I can do nothing for her. She has been for some time in a decline.”
The sentence being pa.s.sed, she had no room in her heart for any other feeling than pity for her dying sister. In the sunrise, when the sweet air was infusing strength into fresh young life, the end came. Mrs.
Farebrother whispered to her sister that she wished to speak to her husband alone. Thoroughly awed, he sat by her side. She made no reference to the past; she uttered no reproaches. She spoke only of their child, and begged him to be good to her. He promised all that she asked of him.
”You will get some good woman into the house to take care of her?” she said.
”Yes; I promise.”
”And my sister must see her whenever she wishes to do so.”
”Yes.”
”And when our dear one is old enough and strong enough you will let her go to my sister, and stop with her a little now and then? It will do her good to mix with children of her own age.”
”Yes; I promise.”
”As you deal by her, so will you be dealt by. May Heaven prosper you in all worthy undertakings! Kiss me. Let there be peace and forgiveness between us.”
He kissed her, and sat a little apart while she and her sister, their cheeks nestling, exchanged their last words.