"Mamma," she said, "you read me from the Bible the other day, that Dod cared for the dood man, and sent the raven to feed him. And you taid He would send His angel to care for me if I was a dood dirl. Will not Dod care for papa and Eddie?"
Mrs. Ashton returned Allie's caresses; and catching little Mamie in her arms, and kissing the tears from her face, she said, "Mamma's daughters are a great comfort to her. God will take care of us all, my darling. He will send His angel down to care for papa and Eddie, and to console us who are troubled and sorrowing because of them. He will care for us all!"
In a few days she received a letter from Eddie stating that, though his father was still weak, the doctor thought he was so far convalescent as to be able to start upon his journey, and therefore they might expect them in a short time; and he mentioned the day when he thought they would reach Bayton.
Four days after they received the letter, Eddie and his father arrived. But what was the grief and anguish of Mrs. Ashton, and the sorrow of Mr. Gurney, who had accompanied her to the station, to discover that even now, when they had come with hearts full of sympathy to administer consolation to him in his hour of sickness and suffering, he had been so far forgetful of what was due to himself and to his friends, also of the anguish with which he would wring the heart of his wife, as to be in a state of semi-intoxication.
As they looked at him they were both terribly shocked at the change which a few days had wrought in him. He did not appear like the same person as the one who left them two short weeks before. He was, in fact, only the dilapidated wreck of his former self. His manhood, his self-respect, his glory had departed.
His wife welcomed both him and Eddie with a kiss; but Mr. Gurney, who was shocked beyond measure, coldly turned away—he could not trust himself to speak, for, if he had, burning as he was with indignation and a sense of violated trust, he would have given utterance to words that would have caused him future regret.
Mrs. Ashton had Eddie call a cab, and had her husband driven home, and by the time he reached there he seemed to become so intoxicated as to be almost helpless, having to be carried from the cab into the house; and what added to the shame and anguish of Mrs. Ashton was that there were a great many of the neighbors who had gathered to welcome him who, of course, took in the situation, though they were too well bred to give expression to their astonishment. It caused her exquisite pain to think her husband had again been degraded in the sight of the world, and that she and her children shared with him that degradation.
Richard Ashton, from that time, rapidly degenerated. He seemed to be sapped of both physical and moral strength. His friends rallied round and endeavored to induce him to reform. Mr. and Mrs. Gurney used every art they could command to restore him, but though he would promise to listen to their injunction, his promises were never put in practice. He really meant to be as good as his word, but he lacked the moral stamina, and the consequence was he sank to a lower level every day. It at last became evident he wished to avoid a meeting, and they therefore felt their endeavors in his behalf were becoming distasteful to him. So with great sorrow of heart, for they had become sincerely attached to him, they had, for the time being, to desist from their benevolent attempts and leave him to his fate.
And just then, to make matters still worse, Stanley Ginsling appeared upon the scene. Like the foul buzzard, he seemed to have scented his quarry from afar. And to add to the intense pain of Mrs. Ashton and her children, they were again boon companions.
The strain was finally too great for poor Ruth. Like thousands of other poor, heart-broken wives and mothers, she used every endeavor to keep up her spirits and try and maintain her strength; but her sensitive mind was daily tortured with the most exquisite pain.