you, beenabominably careless and selfish. We won't add any more to that; it isquite bad enough. There is such a thing as turning over a new leaf, andwhether you have the strength to turn over that leaf God only knows--Idon't. The thing at present is to face what is before us."
"You will tell us, Horry, won't you?" said Nesta, in a coaxing tone.She could not for the life of her help coaxing any one she came across.
"I will tell you. I haven't come into this room to be mealy-mouthed orto hide anything from you. Our mother is very ill; the doctor thinks itquite possible that she may not live until the morning."
"Then I'll die, too," said Nesta.
"Nonsense, Nesta. Don't give way to selfishness just now. You are inno possible danger."
"I'll die; I know I'll die."
"Hush!" said her brother sternly; "let me go on with what I've got tosay. Our mother is in danger; you cannot be with her, for, alas, whenyou were given the chance you would not take it. You never reallynursed her; you never--not for a single moment--saw to her realcomforts. Therefore, now in her hour of peril, you three--her ownchildren--are useless. Nevertheless, the doctor thinks it best that youshould not undress. You must stay in your room, ready to be called ifit is necessary."
"If?" said Molly. "Why, what is going to happen? Why must we becalled?"
"Poor children! she may want to speak to you."
"I won't go," said Molly.
She covered her face with her hands and began to shake from head tofoot.
"It may not be necessary, child; but do learn to have more self-control.How will you bear all the sorrows of a lifetime if you break down now?"
"I have never been taught to bear anything--I have never been taught,"said Molly.
Horace looked at her in absolute perplexity. Molly rose tremblingly;she flung herself across the bed. She was shivering so violently thather whole body shook.
It was at that instant that Marcia softly opened the door and came in.
"Why, what is it? What is it, Horace? How good of you."
"Now, you have come, Marcia, I'll go," said Horace, and he slipped outof the room.
"Marcia, can you speak to us? Can you? Aren't you too angry?"
"Poor children--no, not now. Molly, sit up."
Marcia laid her hand on the girl's shoulder. She raised her upforcibly.
"My darling," she said, "kiss me."
"Will you kiss me after what has happened?"
"I pity you so much. I have come to--to kneel with you--to pray. Itwould be a very terrible thing for you if our mother were to dieto-night. We will ask God to keep her alive."
"Oh, do, Marcia," said Nesta, in a tone of the greatest anguish and thegreatest belief. "You are so good. He will be certain to hear you.Kneel down at once, Marcia--say the words, oh, say them, say them!"Marcia did pray, while the three girls clustered round her and joinedtheir sobs to her earnest petitions.
In the morning Mrs Aldworth was still alive. There had been norepetition of the dangerous attack. The great specialist from Newcastlewas summoned, and he gave certain directions. A trained nurse wasbrought into the house, and Nesta, Molly, and Ethel were sent to staywith the Carters.
It was the Carters themselves who had suggested this, and the girls wentaway, feeling thoroughly brokenhearted. They were really so shocked, sodistressed, that they did not know themselves; but as day after day wentby, and as Mrs Aldworth by slow degrees got better, and yet better, somuch better that the doctor only came to see her once a day, then everysecond day, then twice a week, and then finally said to Marcia, "You cansummon me when you want me--" so did the remorse and the agony of thatterrible night pass from the minds of the young Aldworths. They couldnot help having a good time at the Carters'. The Carters were theessence of good nature. They had been dreadfully sorry for them duringtheir time of anguish; they had done their utmost for the girls, and nowthey were willing to keep them as their guests.
On a certain day, a month after Mrs Aldworth's serious illness, whenshe had come back again to that standpoint from which she had so nearlyslipped away into the ocean of Eternity, Marcia made up her mind that itwas time to put the repentance of her three young sisters to the test.They must return home and renew their duties to their mother. Marciahad given up all idea now of returning to Frankfort. She had writtenonce or twice to Angela, and Angela had replied. She had also writtento Mrs Silchester.
"There is little hope of my being able to return this summer. Mystepmother has been most alarmingly ill," she wrote.
Angela had come to see her, but Marcia could not give her much of hertime. Angela had kissed her, and had looked into her eyes, and Marciahad said:
"I think I understand a little better your remarks about the path ofduty, and the grandeur of duty, and I am quite content, and I do notrepent at all."
Angela thought a good deal of her friend, and wondered what she could dofor her. But she scarcely approved of Marcia's still firmly adhered-toresolution, that the young Aldworths were to resume the care of theirmother.
"It will be so trying to you, and do you dare for a single moment torisk leaving her with them?"
"Yes; the doctor has great hopes of her. He says that the new treatmenthas produced an almost radical change in the condition of her heart, andthat with care she will do well, and may even become fairly strong oncemore. But all this is a question of time, and the girls have been quitelong enough away from home, and I am going to fetch them to-morrow."
On a certain day, therefore, when Nurse Davenant had done everything tomake the invalid thoroughly comfortable, Marcia put on her hat andwalked along the shady road towards the St Justs' old house.
She had known it fairly well when she was quite a child, but had nevercared to go there since the Carters had purchased it. The Carters wereabsolute strangers to Marcia. She had never once met them. She walkednow under the avenue of splendid old beech trees, and thought of herpast and future. Things were not going quite so well with herself asshe could have hoped. Her life seemed to have narrowed itself into thecare of one querulous invalid. It is true that the doctor had declaredthat but for Marcia Mrs Aldworth would not now be in the world; butthere were Mrs Aldworth's own daughters; Marcia's own step-sisters.She must do something for them. What could she do?
She had just turned a certain bend in the avenue, when she heard amocking voice say in laughing tones:
"I tell you what it is, I don't ever want to go back to stupid oldMarcia, nor--nor to the old house. I'm as happy here as the day islong, and now that Mothery is getting well, and you let me have as muchof Flossie's society as I want, I don't ever want to go home."
"Hush!" said another voice.
Nesta raised her head and saw Marcia.
"Oh, did you hear me?" she said. "I know I was saying something verynaughty; but I almost forget what it was."
"I did hear you, Nesta," said Marcia. "How are you, dear? Of course,I'm not angry with you. You wouldn't have said it to my face, wouldyou?"
"Well, I suppose not," said Nesta.
"Are you Miss Aldworth, really?" said Penelope, the youngest of theCarter girls.
She was a black-eyed girl, with a great lot of fussy curly hair. Shehad rosy cheeks and white teeth. She looked up merrily at Marcia with aquizzical expression in her dancing eyes.
"Yes, I am Miss Aldworth, and I have come to see my sisters, and tothank you for being so good to them."
"How is mother to-day, Marcia?" said Nesta.
"Much, much better."
Nesta slipped her hand inside Marcia's arm. She wanted, as sheexpressed it afterwards to Penelope, to make up to Marcia. She wantedto coax her to do something, which she did not think Marcia was likelyto do.
"I generally have my own way," she said, "except with that stupid oldMarcia. She never yields to any one, although she has such a kind look.Oh, I know she was good to mother that dreadful, dreadful, dreadfulnight; but I want to shut that tight from my memory."
"Yes,
do, for Heaven's sake," said Penelope. "You always give me thejumps when you speak of it."
Now, Nesta was intensely anxious that Marcia should not go up to thehouse; there was great fun going on on the front lawn. A number ofguests had been invited, and Molly and Ethel were having a right goodtime. Penelope and Nesta were to join them presently, but that was whenFlossie arrived. They did not want Marcia--old Mule Selfish, as Nestastill loved to call her, to intrude her stupid presence into the midstof the mirth.
"I am so glad mother is better; I can tell the others all about her.What message have you got for them?"
"I have no message for them," said