The two nurses, who had been at another end of the ward, came that way, and with her hand quivering in the air, the poor invalid beckoned them. They came on, loitering heavily along, and talking to each other. The young woman turned away to another side, and the elder nurse moved forward, grumbling.
"See, one is coming. I have been bad to-day, you know, and only this angel will appear," whispered the invalid, pointing with her unsteady finger toward the nurse.
Mary Fuller looked up; her large eyes began to dilate, and her face grew very pale. The woman's eyes fell upon her. A look of ferocious pleasure rose to her face, and she came forward, laying her hand heavily upon the child's shoulder.
"Mother!" broke from Mary Fuller, and the tears stood in her affrighted eyes, "oh, mother!"
"Don't mother me, puss! A pretty child you are, to sneak off, get yourself new frocks and the like, while your own poor mamma is in prison!" cried the woman, clutching the child's shoulder. "And how came you here at last?"
"I came in search of her!" said the child, pointing to Mrs. Chester; "she was good to me, after—after they took you away. I lived with them; this is her little girl!"
"Then you did not come to see your own mother!—very well—very well! I only wait till I get out, that's all!" and giving the poor child a shake, the woman fell to settling the bed-clothes about Mrs. Chester, muttering threats against the child who stood trembling by her side.
"I have come," said Mary, meekly, following the woman as she turned from the bed; "I have come to stay. The kind gentleman at the Park said that we might both live at Bellevue till she was better. Mother, oh! mother, let me help take care of her. I can—see how strong I have grown!"
"Take care of her, indeed—and who would take care of me, if I were sick, I should like to know?"
"I would, indeed I would, mother."