And so days passed—days of trouble and anxiety—during which Mrs Septimus forgot her own ailments, and watched and nursed in turn with Lucy. The doctor had talked as so many doctors will talk, in an indefinite strain, which left the anxious parents in a state of doubt and bewilderment, though it never occurred to Septimus Hardon that so great an affliction could fall upon him, as that he should lose his little one.
About a week after the seizure, Mrs Septimus was watching by the child, who, after partaking eagerly of some tea, had apparently dropped off to sleep.
“Take little Tom down into the office,” whispered Mrs Hardon, “perhaps she will sleep awhile if we keep her quiet.”
So Septimus Hardon, looking dazed and worn with mental anxiety, took his boy in his arms, and Lucy being asleep after watching nearly all night, he left Mrs Septimus with the sick child, and carried the little fellow down into the dusty, unused office, where, taking advantage of his father’s abstraction, the child proceeded to make a heap of type upon the floor, thoroughly covering himself with the black dust, and even going so far as to try the flavour of some of the pieces of metal.
At last the little one began to grow tired, and tried to gain the attention of its father—no light task, for with his face buried in his hands he was seated at his desk trying to see his way clearly through the future—a task so many of us attempt, and some even fancy we have achieved, but only to find the falseness of our hopes when the days we looked forward to have come upon us.
But the child was at last successful, and as Septimus raised his head from the desk, he became aware of the presence of the old man of a few days before, and apparently as far from prosperity as ever.
“Nothing doing; no work,” said Septimus.
“Any little job will do, sir,” said the old man. “Just come to get out of debt, that’s all. What’s it to be, sir?”
“Another time,” said Septimus. “I’ve—”
A loud cry from above cut short his words, and darting to the door, forgetting his customary indecision, he bounded up the stairs, while, finding himself left with a stranger, the little fellow burst into a dismal wail.