Part 20 (1/2)
She had no idea that Jem left her to lie down on the sofa in the next room; nor that her mother-in-law took little d.i.c.kie on her knee and fed him tenderly; nor that she bathed his eyes with warm water; nor that she refilled the baby's bath, and with Cherry's help undressed and bathed him.
”It is nice,” said the poor little fellow, as the kind old woman sat with him on her lap before the fire, and slipped over his head a clean warm little nightgown brought down from her airing-horse up-stairs.
”It's Mrs. Blunt's,” she explained to Cherry; ”but I'm not a bit afraid but what she'll lend it to him for a night or two. Wasn't it fortunate that she happened to send it in amongst the sheets I do for her? She don't ever send me these sort of things, but this one came for the purpose, I do believe! Don't he look different?”
”He do indeed,” answered poor little yawning Cherry. ”I never see him look so nice since mother used to undress him. I did the best I could, ma'am, but it was so dreadful hard to keep 'im clean.”
Mrs. Seymour shook her head kindly.
”I know it was, child,” she said.
She was going to add that she did not know how her Jem was going to support two children; but a glance at Cherry's happy face stopped her, and she only added softly--
”You can wash your face and hands too, child, and then you shall go to bed.”
”Are you goin' to bed?” whispered Cherry.
”Not to-night, my dear,” glancing towards Meg, ”but I'll doze a bit in this chair. Now, d.i.c.kie, shall I put you back in the nice warm bed with Meg, as I promised?”
d.i.c.kie nodded.
She rose, and opening the clothes as gently as she could, she put the clean warm little boy close to Meg's side.
Meg instantly felt him, and understood enough, without rousing herself, to say in a soft little tone of endearment--
”Come along, d.i.c.kie; you won't mind staying with me?”
”No; I'll stay along of mo'ver-Meg,” said d.i.c.kie; and as he said it, he put his thin little arms about her neck and kissed her. Then without another word they both sank into dreamless slumber.
[Ill.u.s.tration]
[Ill.u.s.tration]
CHAPTER XIII.
d.i.c.kIE'S ATTIC.
When Mrs. Seymour had placed the tired little Cherry in her own nice bed, and had made Miss Hobson understand in a few words who it was who would be found in the morning sharing her room, she returned to the next floor and looked round.
In the bedroom Meg and d.i.c.kie slept the sleep of the utterly weary, and leaving them for a moment she went to look after her son Jem.
He too slept soundly, though he had not undressed, but lay covered by a blanket on the sofa.
The clock on the mantel-piece pointed to two, the fire was out, and the room desolate.
Making her own determination, but leaving it for the present for fear of disturbing Jem, she went back to Meg. She stood by the side of the little cot and gazed long and earnestly at the face of her grandchild.
Her grandchild! How she had longed to welcome it! how she had counted on hearing its little feet patter about in her room! how she had yearned to see her Jem with his child on his knee!
Instead of that, a dead baby lay in the cradle; and in Meg's embrace slept a little stranger child, taken, as it were, out of the very gutter; and in Jem's arms had stood a little cripple, who might be a care to him all his days.