"O my mother!" almost shrieked the distracted daughter as she attempted to raise her.
Mr. Cheevers heard the cry and came rushing up the stairs, and the wretched woman was soon carried to her bed, where, in a short time, the family physician was in attendance. For many weeks the proud, erring Mrs. Belmont lay tossing upon her bed in wild delirium, and Lillian stood by and listened to her ravings.
"I did not do it! Look—there is no blood on my hands! It was she! It was she! Let me look again; yes—the same purple spots; Lillian! Lillian! Why won't you come to me? I did not do it! It was the sea—the wicked, cruel sea! O my curse! It has fallen back upon my poor head! It is burning up my brain! O God! But he won't hear! The fires—the fires!"
In vain did the untiring watcher breathe into her ears the words of sympathy and forgiveness, but the whirling brain caught them not. The tenderest of hands bathed the burning brow and administered to her every necessity. It was a long, a fearful struggle between life and death; but when the spring days were all past, and the warm summer sun shone down upon the fresh young grass in the public squares, Mrs. Belmont lay with folded hands and worn-out frame in quiet helplessness upon the bed, where for so many weeks she had tossed in frantic delirium. The poor clogged brain had been relieved of its heavy load and the burdened conscience quieted, and now the reaction had come and Lillian again prayed and waited!
"If she would but speak to me or show some signs of recognition," Lillian had said one day to her aunt, as they stood looking at the pale, wan face upon the pillow. "It is so hard to see her lying there day after day so still and passive, taking all that is given her without a word or gesture! Terrible fears at times take possession of me—what if she never recovers her reason! The doctor has hinted such a possibility if I am not mistaken, and I dare not ask him if my suspicions are correct." The quivering lids were slowly raised for one moment from over the large eyes, where a most pitiful pleading look was hidden, and the longing glance fastened itself on the troubled face beside her.
"Mother, dear Mother, do you know me? Speak just one word to your poor Lillian;" and she kissed tenderly the firmly set lips. Again the lids slowly fell and the dark orbs were shut in with their unfathomed mysteries.
"This is dreadful!" and with tears streaming down her face the aunt turned and walked from the room.