"Don't, darling, don't," said Mrs. Bond, with difficulty restraining her own emotions at Rose's distress, and the comfortless look of every thing about her. "Dear heart, don't cry;" and taking Charley in her matronly arms, she pushed Rose gently toward the bed, and sat down beside her.
"I see—I see"—she whispered, looking round the room, "you needn't say a word, dear, it is hard to bear; but turn over, and try to catch a nap while I hold the baby;" and cuddling him up into her comfortably fat neck, the good hearted old lady commenced her weary walk up and down the attic floor. Her gentle lulling and gentler touch, for babies know well how to appreciate an experienced and skillful hand, soon soothed the little sufferer. Rose, too, relieved from the pressure of responsibility which had weighed so heavily on her inexperience, yielded to the exhaustion which overpowered her, and sank into a fitful slumber.
Mrs. Bond laid Charley down on the foot of the bed, enveloped in her own warm shawl, and with velvet tread and noiseless touch, rinsed the glasses and spoons which stood on the window-seat near her, rearranged the cook's petticoat over the window, and sat down to watch her charge.
How even those few hours' sickness had blanched Charley's cheek, and paled Rose's lip!—"How could Mrs. Howe?"—but no, she would not think about it, if she could help it; and yet it was cruel; no, no, she would not think of it, and leaning her head forward upon the bed, she prayed God to make the stony heart a heart of flesh.
Rose started up—she was not dreaming, for there sat good Mrs. Bond, with her snowy cap and heart-warming smile.
"Dear heart! what a nice little nap you have had," she says, kissing Rose's forehead; "try and sleep again, dear."
"No," replied Rose, rising slowly; "lie down yourself—how very tired you must be, and how kind you are! I don't know how to bear such wretched hours as I have had here; oh, mother—mother!" and Rose sobbed again.
"There—there!" said Mrs. Bond, wiping Rose's eyes with her handkerchief; "don't now, there's a dear. I don't know why this is, but I know God loves us all, though we may not sometimes think so. Bear it, and trust Him, dear; we shall know all by and by. There, don't cry, now;" and Mrs. Bond wiped away her own tears.
A little stifled moan from the shawl announced Charley's waking. Rose took him up, and sat down with him upon her lap; how hot was his little head and hand, and how heavy his eye!