Presently the door opened and a young girl attired in a dark suit entered the room. Although youthful, she had the air of restfulness usually found only in persons of more mature years. She had great black eyes now full of sympathy with those in the room. Her dark, glossy hair parted in the middle, emphasized the extreme whiteness of her broad forehead. This was Mary Black, daughter of the banker, and sister of Arthur Black. She glanced about the apartment until her glance rested upon Herbert, and going up to him, put her hand in his with such frankness and tenderness as to bring tears to his eyes. He stepped to one side of the room. She was the first to speak.
“Herbert, I feel for you very, very much,” she said in a low, melodious voice. “Mother would not rest until I had come over here to inquire how your father was getting on. Indeed we all feel for you and your mother very much. Father was anxious also.”
She was quick to see that Herbert’s face clouded up at the mention of her father, and hastened to add:
“That is what I wished to speak about particularly. I know that your father and my father had words; but I can assure you that there is no ill feeling on father’s part now. I talked with him long and earnestly, and he finally consented to permit me to come over here and say this to your father. The moment he is able to see anyone, I want to tell him this.”
“You are an angel,” murmured Herbert. “I don’t thank your father for this visit, but I am very, very grateful to you.”
Just then Mrs. Harkins stepped out of the room, and Mary made haste to repeat to her what she had already told Herbert. The face of the older woman softened at the kind words that were poured into her ears, and in a moment the girl and the mother were in each other’s arms, indulging in one of those crys which do so much to relieve the tension of grief and sorrow.
But Mary Black did not waste much time in useless tears. She quickly dried her eyes, and turning to Mrs. Harkins, said with energy:
“Now, I’m going to make myself useful; tell me what to do first.”
Mrs. Harkins smiled through her tears at this manifestation of industry. But she felt relieved to know that feminine hands and feminine eyes would be in charge of her house while she remained at the bedside of her stricken husband. Mary Black, during that hour of anxiety and for many days afterward, proved herself a genuine angel of mercy. Those who gazed at her knew that while her nature was kind and gentle she was yet resolute and determined.
The minutes went by and those who were assembled in the outer room kept anxious watch on the door leading to the sick chamber. All instinctively realized that a crisis was at hand, and that it was to be decided very shortly. Presently there was a movement within and the doctor came out, supporting Mrs. Harkins on his shoulder. A hush went over the little circle.