She repeated this
for the third time before she was summoned in by a low hoarse voice,
and then on entering she saw Mr. Crawley standing by the bedside with
a book in his hand. He looked at her uncomfortably, in a manner which
seemed to show that he was annoyed by this intrusion, and Lucy was
aware that she had disturbed him while at prayers by the bedside of
his wife. He came across the room, however, and shook hands with her,
and answered her inquiries in his ordinary grave and solemn voice.
"Mrs. Crawley is very ill," he said--"very ill. God has stricken us
heavily, but His will be done. But you had better not go to her, Miss
Robarts. It is typhus."
The caution, however, was too late; for Lucy was already by the
bedside, and had taken the hand of the sick woman, which had been
extended on the coverlid to greet her. "Dear Miss Robarts," said a
weak voice; "this is very good of you; but it makes me unhappy to
see you here." Lucy lost no time in taking sundry matters into her
own hands, and ascertaining what was most wanted in that wretched
household. For it was wretched enough. Their only servant, a girl of
sixteen, had been taken away by her mother as soon as it became known
that Mrs. Crawley was ill with fever. The poor mother, to give her
her due, had promised to come down morning and evening herself, to do
such work as might be done in an hour or so; but she could not, she
said, leave her child to catch the fever.
Pages:
595
596
597
598
599
600
601
602
603
604
605
606
607
608
609
610
611
612
613
614
615
616
617
618
619