He put out his hands, moving them to and fro over the counterpane, to gather up the blossoms he had scattered there; but his fingers wandered so uncertainly, that even when he succeeded in collecting a few, they would drop from his grasp. I saw he began to grow impatient, and I knew that the least thing would excite his fever and thereby increase the delirium, so I put the flowers softly into his palm. He smiled in a satisfied way.
"Here they are," he said; "take them, Jessie; see what a pretty wreath they make."
Then the smile changed to a look of pain. He let the flowers fall to the counterpane with a low moan.
"She has a wreath on now!" he exclaimed. "Jessie Lee, who gave you that? White flowers! Bridal flowers!"
He started up in the bed with such violence, that his mother hurried forward with a cry of dismay, and, getting into mischief, as people in a flurry are sure to do, she upset a bottle of cologne and a goblet, but fortunately the old lady caught them before they reached the floor.
"Oh my!" sobbed little Mrs. Bosworth, in nervous fright, "what have I done? Oh! dear, dear!"
"Sit down, my dear," said her mother-in-law, with a good deal of steadiness; "you only disturb him."
"But he looks so wild. Hadn't I better send for the doctor?"
"No, no. He will be here before long. Leave my grandson to Miss Hyde; she will quiet him."
The old lady looked at me, with confidence in my powers, and the mother joined her in a helpless, despairing manner, mixed with a little maternal jealousy, at seeing me in the place that was hers by right. I felt quite nervous and disturbed by this joint appeal; however, I was not foolish enough to give way to any weakness or nonsense when composure was required, so I drew close to the bed, and laid my hand on Bosworth's arm. He was muttering wildly, and I could catch the words,—