Left at Home / or, The Heart's Resting Place

E-text prepared by Juliet Sutherland, Anne Storer, and the Project Gutenberg Online Distributed Proofreading Team (http://www.pgdp.net)
Ashton Grange.

LITTLE MILDRED, OR THE GATHERED LAMB.
TOP, Mr. Arthur, if you please. You are not to go upstairs. Mistress left orders for you to stay in the library until she came down.”
So spoke the younger servant at Ashton Grange, as Arthur rushed upstairs three steps at a time.
“Why, what’s the matter? Why shouldn’t I go upstairs? Is anything the matter?”
“I don’t know, Mr. Arthur, whether there is much the matter; but I am afraid Miss Mildred is ill. The doctor is upstairs, and mistress said there is not to be a sound of noise.”
These words quite sobered Arthur, as he turned from the stairs and went into the library. It was a pleasant room at all times, but especially so on a winter’s evening, when the frosty night was shining clear and cold without. A bright fire was blazing, lighting up the crimson carpet and curtains, and sparkling on the snowy table-cover, where preparations for such a tea were made as Arthur was usually at this time prepared to appreciate. But as he sat down on the rug, and, holding his face in his two hands, gazed earnestly into the fire, he was not thinking of his hunger. A very grave expression was on his boyish face. He was thinking of what the housemaid had told him, and wishing very much to know more.
“Why, what can be the matter with baby?” he thought. “She was all right when I went out. She can’t be so very bad, I should think, all in a minute. No; I don’t believe she is. I’m hungry.”
And Arthur started up, and came nearer the table, intending to help himself to something. But then he stopped, and thought again—
“I suppose she is though, or else the doctor wouldn’t be here, and every one wouldn’t have to be so quiet. Oh, dear, I wish mother would come. I wish she would come. I do wish very much she would come.”