FullReads

So much for the experiment of taking boarders, after the lapse of a single quarter of a year.

CHAPTER V.

ABOUT this time a lady and gentleman, named Marion, called and engaged boarding for themselves and three children. In Mrs. Marion there was something that won the heart at first sight, and her children were as lovely and attractive as herself; but towards her husband there was a feeling of instant repulsion. Not that he was coarse or rude in his exterior–that was polished; but there were a sensualism and want of principle about him that could be felt.

They had been in the house only a week or two, when their oldest child, a beautiful boy, was taken ill. He had fever, and complained of distress in his back and pain in his head. The mother appeared anxious, but the father treated the matter lightly, and said he would be well again in a few hours.

“I think you’d better call in a doctor,” Mrs. Darlington heard the mother say, as her husband stood at the chamber door ready to go away.

“Nonsense, Jane,” he replied. “You are easily frightened. There’s nothing serious the matter.”

“I’m afraid of scarlet fever, Henry,” was answered to this.

“Fiddlesticks! You’re always afraid of something,” was lightly and unkindly returned.

Mrs. Marion said no more, and her husband went away. About half an hour afterwards, as Mrs. Darlington sat in her room, there was a light tap at her door, which was immediately opened, and Mrs. Marion stepped in. Her face was pale, and it was some moments before her quivering lips could articulate.

“Won’t you come up and look at my Willy?” she at length said, in a tremulous voice.

“Certainly, ma’am,” replied Mrs. Darlington, rising immediately. “What do you think ails your little boy?”

“I don’t know, ma’am; but I’m afraid of scarlet fever–that dreadful disease.”

Mrs. Darlington went up to the chamber of Mrs. Marion. On the bed lay Willy, his face flushed with fever, and his eyes wearing a glassy lustre.

“Do you feel sick, my dear?” asked Mrs. Darlington, as she laid her hand on his burning forehead.

“Yes, ma’am,” replied the child.

“There are you sick?”

“My head aches.”

“Is your throat sore?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Very sore?”

“It hurts me so that I can hardly swallow.”

“What do you think ails him?” asked the mother, in anxious tones.

“It’s hard to say, Mrs. Marion; but, if it were my case, I would send for a doctor. Who is your physician?”

“Dr. M—-.”

“If you would like to have him called in, I will send the waiter to his office.”

Mrs. Marion looked troubled and alarmed.

“My husband doesn’t think it any thing serious,” said she. “I wanted him to go for the doctor.”

“Take my advice, and send for a physician,” replied Mrs. Darlington.

“If you will send for Dr. M—-, I will feel greatly obliged,” said Mrs. Marion.

The doctor was sent for immediately. He did not come for two hours, in which time Willy had grown much worse. He looked serious, and answered all questions evasively. After writing a prescription, he gave a few directions, and said he would call again in the evening. At his second visit, he found his patient much worse; and, on the following morning, pronounced it a case of scarlatina.

Already, Willy had made a friend in every member of Mrs. Darlington’s family, and the announcement of his dangerous illness was received with acute pain. Miriam took her place beside Mrs. Marion in the sick chamber, all her sympathies alive, and all her fears awakened; and Edith and her mother gave every attention that their other duties in the household would permit.

Rapidly did the disease, which had fixed itself upon the delicate frame of the child, run its fatal course. On the fourth day he died in the arms of his almost frantic mother.

Though Mrs. Marion had been only a short time in the house, yet she had already deeply interested the feelings of Mrs. Darlington and her two eldest daughters, who suffered with her in the affliction almost as severely as if they had themselves experienced a bereavement; and this added to the weight, already painfully oppressive, that rested upon them.