Part 25 (1/2)

”No, I shan't,” said Rachel, in a feeble voice, trying to raise her head; ”it was only a sudden dizziness. I often have it when my head aches, only to-day it was worse than usual.”

”Lie still there,” said Julia, as they led her to the sofa, ”and keep perfectly quiet; I'll go call Miss Christine.”

”No! no!” cried Rachel, jumping up, but sinking back again as the sudden movement sent her head whizzing round; ”please don't; she has gone up to give cook her medicine, and indeed I shall be better soon.”

”I won't call her, if you'll promise to go to bed as soon as you are able to walk.”

”Well, I will,” answered Rachel. ”I can go in a few minutes; would you mind asking Florence to come here?”

Sarah ran off to get Florence, and Julia sat down by Rachel, bathing her head with cold water. Marion went on quietly putting away the dishes; only now and then glancing at the white face in such fearful contrast with its surroundings of black hair and dress.

Florence came in, and, as soon as Rachel was able, helped her up to her room, where she laid down on the bed without undressing, hoping to feel well enough to go down to tea; but that was out of the question; her head grew worse instead of better, and at last Florence insisted upon calling Miss Christine.

When Miss Christine came up, she told Marion to take Rachel into Miss Stiefbach's room, and help her to undress at once, while she went to get some hot water in which to bathe her feet. Very soon Rachel was in bed, and begged Miss Christine to ”go away and not mind her, for she knew she should feel all right in the morning.”

But of this Miss Christine did not feel at all sure; the deadly pallor of Rachel's face had been succeeded by a bright red spot in each cheek, and the palms of her hands were burning hot. Leaving Florence to sit with her friend, she went down to attend to her other duties. She went into the dining-room to set the tea-table; but Marion and Sarah were there before her.

”How is Rachel?” asked Sarah; ”do you think she is going to be ill?”

”I hope not; indeed I think not, for you know she often has these dreadful headaches; still she has a bad sore throat, and seems feverish.

I almost wish Miss Stiefbach had not gone.”

”It was too bad,” said Sarah; ”just now when everybody is sick! I don't see why that lady had to send for her!”

”Well, my dear, she could not possibly know that it was not convenient for us to have Miss Stiefbach away, and she wanted to see her about something very important; it could not be helped. I dare say everything will come out right in the end. I must go now and help Bridget, or she will get discouraged. O Marion,” she said, as she was about to leave the room, ”will you please sleep with Rose? She'll be afraid to sleep alone, and I have put Rachel into Miss Stiefbach's room, where I can be near her if she should want anything in the night.”

”Oh, I don't want to,” replied Marion, much to Miss Christine's surprise. ”Rose kicks awfully. Ask Florence.”

”Will she be any less likely to kick Florence than you?” asked Miss Christine, quietly.

”No, I suppose not; but you know Florence won't mind, as long as it's for Rachel.”

”And you would, I am sorry to say.”

”I suppose it's no use for me to offer,” said Sarah, ”for that would leave Jennie all alone, and she's an awful coward.”

”No, I thank you,” said Miss Christine, as she left the room; ”I will ask Florence.”

Marion said nothing; she went on setting the table and talking to Sarah, never in any way alluding to Rachel, and doing her best not to think of her, or reproach herself for having treated her so unkindly; but no matter what she did, she could not stifle the voice of conscience, and its whisperings were far from pleasant to hear.

That night, as she went up to bed, her better nature prompted her to step into Rachel's room, and ask her if she felt any better; but ”No,”

she said to herself, ”she will think it's all hypocrisy, and I won't do it.”

She hurried and undressed herself as quickly as possible, so that she was already in bed when Florence came in to get her night-clothes to carry into Rose's room; but she did not speak or open her eyes. Florence moved round as quietly as possible, getting her things together, and then stepping to the bedside stooped down and kissed her friend; but Marion did not speak or move; so Florence, thinking she was asleep, turned out the gas, and left the room. When she was gone Marion buried her head in the pillow, and wept bitter, bitter tears.

It was a long time before she went to sleep, and then her rest was disturbed by frightful dreams; she thought the house was on fire; that she was safe, but Rachel and Florence were in the attic, where no one could reach them, and they must burn to death while she stood looking on.

She awoke with a start, to see a bright light in the entry; springing out of bed, she ran to the door just as Miss Christine, with a candle in her hand, and a wrapper over her night-dress was pa.s.sing by.

”O Miss Christine,” she cried, in an excited whisper, ”is the house on fire?”