“In perfect repose, as far as I can judge.”
Nellie stole noiselessly into the room, softly took away the night lamp that was still burning, then gently opened a window to admit the fresh morning air, and finally went up to the bedside to gaze upon the mother and child. It was a touching picture. Both were sleeping. The shadows of death had crept more darkly still over Mrs. Helmstedt’s beautiful face, but she seemed to rest quietly, with one hand laid over Margaret’s shoulder, in a protecting, soothing manner. Margaret’s face had the troubled look of one who had been overcome by sleep, in the midst, and despite of great sorrow. As Nellie gazed, Mrs. Helmstedt, with the sensitiveness of the dying, perceived her presence, and opened her eyes.
“How are you, dear Marguerite?” inquired Nellie.
Her lips moved, and Nellie stopped to catch the faint murmur that came from them.
“Hush—sh! don’t wake her. It took so long to get her to sleep—and sleep is such a blessing.”
“Sleep is such a blessing!” These were the last words of Marguerite Helmstedt. Saying them, her eyes turned with unutterable love upon the little form sleeping beside her, and her hand essayed again its soothing part, but that dying hand was too feeble, and it slipped, powerless, from its work.
Margaret, at the same moment, opened her eyes, with that distressed, perplexed expression wherewith we first awake after a great sorrow. But in an instant all was remembered. Her mother dying since yesterday! Simultaneously with this anguish of recovered memory came that strange power of self-control, with which this young creature was so greatly endowed.
“How are you, sweet mother?” she asked, calmly.
The lips of the dying woman fluttered and faintly smiled, but no audible sound issued thence. Her powers of speech had failed. Margaret grew deadly pale.
“Do not be alarmed, and do not worry her with questions. She is very much exhausted. The doctor will give her a cordial presently,” said the pitying Nellie, seeking to conceal the terrible truth. But had she looked for an instant into that pale, resolute face she would not have feared any unseemly outburst of sorrow on the part of that young girl.