THE CARES OF LIFE.
She had not the least inclination to die. She was, therefore, by no means displeased with the competition of the four faculties, for her inheritance. Nobody gained by it more than herself. It brought her the dainties of philosophy, the consolations of religion, the protection of the law, and moderate doctor's bills. Doctor Falcon was as dear to her as the others, but not a bit more so: only when some transitory indisposition seemed to hint at the instability of everything human, the doctor never failed to become, for the time, the dearest of all her nephews.
"Quick doctor! Pray come immediately! Miss Sarah is dying!" exclaimed one morning, the antiquated maid-servant of the aunt, as she popped her head in at the door. "My lady has been looking most wretchedly for some days."
Falcon was sitting, when this news came, upon his unpretending sofa; and, with his arm round her waist, was endeavouring to console his weeping Susan. He knew that Miss Sarah was not likely to be very serious in her intentions of dying: so he promised the maid he would come immediately, but remained nevertheless with his wife, to console her.
But he had little success this time in his attempts at consolation. Poor Susan wept more bitterly than ever; and the poor doctor sat beside her, unconscious of the cause of her tears.
"Come, be open-hearted to your husband, my dearest love," he said; "you torture me,—you kill me,—to see you thus, while you conceal from me the cause."
"Well, then listen to me. Oh!"
"What further, my dear Susan? you said that before."
"We have four children."
"Ay, and the finest in the town, if I am not mistaken! They are all so gentle, so amiable, so——"
"Oh! they are little angels."
"You are right; they are angels, all of them. You do not, I hope, grieve over the presence of the little angelic circle?"
"No, my dear husband; but what is to become of the future?"
"Oh, thou unbelieving Susan! Let us rely on Providence."
"It is difficult for us to bring them up decently. The older they grow, the more they want."
"They have been growing older all this while, and they have wanted for nothing as yet."
"Ay; but, if——"
"What then?"
"Alas!" she sighed, and sobbed more bitterly than before.
"What then?" exclaimed the doctor, with undissembled anxiety.
She concealed her face in his bosom, clung to him with both her arms, and, in a scarcely audible whisper, said: "I am to be a mother for the fifth time."
The papa was half inclined to cry himself at this unhoped-for announcement; however, he concealed his consternation as well as he could. "Nay, sweetheart, is that all?" he exclaimed. "Come, Susan, we shall have five little angels instead of four. We cannot fail to be happy!"
"But, my dear husband, we are so very, very poor!"
"The little angels will bring a blessing upon us. He who feeds the young ravens will also show me where to find a crumb for my little ones. Come, tranquillise yourself."
Susan had had her cry out, and so became more tranquil, as a matter of course; but the doctor had found no such vent for his uneasiness. He walked up and down the room, looked out of the window; nothing could divert his thoughts.
"Every year more children and less bread! Every year bigger boarders and thinner slices!" sighed he to himself. He would have forgotten the dying Miss Bugle, had not Susan reminded him that it was time to hasten to her death-bed.