CHAPTER XXIX.
RECONCILIATION.
A few days before Mr. Chillingworth's removal to the hospital, a very different patient had been taken thither, also sent in by Dr. Blanchard. This was poor Lizzie Mason, who had been taken ill during Nora's absence, and of whose illness Nora first heard from Miss Pomeroy, who had been specially active in looking after the "Girls' Club" while Miss Blanchard was on duty elsewhere. The story of Lizzie's illness was a sad one. The needs of the family had made her very anxious to earn a little more, if possible, and she had undertaken a kind of work that commanded higher wages on account of its inconvenience. It was that of spinning silk which had to be kept constantly wet by a spray of water, which, of course, kept the garments of the spinner more or less wet also. The obvious precaution of providing a water-proof suit, for this work, had not been deemed necessary by Mr. Willett; and Lizzie could not think of affording the outlay. So she worked on all day in damp clothes, running home afterwards, as quickly as she could, to exchange them. While the mild spring weather continued, no great harm resulted; but, as often happens in spring, it had suddenly become extremely raw and cold. Lizzie, leaving the overheated room in her damp clothing, had taken a chill, which in her weakened constitution had brought on a attack of pneumonia. Miss Pomeroy had been told of her illness, had gone to see her, and, by dint of cross-examination, had ascertained its origin. She went home in a white-heat of indignation, and told her mother the whole story, which, at first, Mrs. Pomeroy refused to believe. Yet when she was compelled to realize it, she suddenly burst into tears, for she was, after all, a good and well-meaning woman; and intermingled self-reproaches and self-defence in a most incoherent manner.
She wouldn't have believed Willett would have permitted such a thing—but how could she know anything about it? Only to think that such things should happen at her own door! She had been pitying the poor women on the other side of the globe, and here were girls in their own mill sacrificed like this! If she had only thought of looking into things a little more! Well, such a thing would never happen again, if she could help it!
"And, in the meantime, Clara," she said, "you will go to Doctor Blanchard, and ask him, for me, to see this poor girl at once, and to do the very best he can for her. And she must get everything she needs, or fancies, to set her up again."
The result of which was, that Lizzie, after much persuasion, consented to go to the hospital for care and treatment, one inducement being the promise that she should be placed in the room of her friend, Mrs. Travers, who had been doing her best to assist the tired nurses in the busy time that the great increase of sickness had brought upon them. It need scarcely be said that she at once became Lizzie's devoted attendant—scarcely relaxing her watch for a moment, till Lizzie was pronounced somewhat better, with a tolerable possibility of recovery.
It was well that she had improved before Mr. Chillingworth's arrival. When Miss Spencer had learned that his case was pronounced an extremely severe and dangerous one, she thought it only right to tell his wife, who, from that moment, seemed to have no thought but for him. Indeed, she begged so hard to be allowed to take a share in the constant attendance he required, that Miss Spencer arranged for her doing so, on the express condition that she should keep well out of his sight, till the issue of the attack should be determined. Mr. Chillingworth, indeed, was not likely to notice any one just then. He was very ill, indeed, and lay most of the time with closed eyes, in a state of great suffering and prostration. His wife's whole being seemed absorbed in watching him with intense anxiety, doing everything for him that it was possible for her to do without being observed by him, and evidently availing herself greedily of the opportunity of once more gazing on his face—so changed, in some respects, yet so familiar, and still to her so dear.
"That poor thing is a heroine in her way," said Dr. Blanchard, on his return from one of his visits. "I never knew greater devotion, and after such an experience!"
He was of the three or four people who had heard the sad story, and Nora had to depend on him for all her information about the invalids; for Mrs. Blanchard, nervously afraid of infection, would not hear of her going near the hospital, even to see Lizzie Mason.
"Poor thing," exclaimed Mrs. Blanchard, sympathetically; "well, she has her turn now! How oddly things seem to come round!"