“What is the matter, Parker?” cried Rex, anxiously, of the servant who came out to meet him.
“Mrs. Lyon is very ill, sir,” he answered, gravely; “it 98 is a paralytic stroke the doctor says. We could not find you, so we went for Doctor Elton at once.”
It seemed but a moment since he had parted from his mother in the gathering twilight, to search for Birdie. His mother very ill––dear Heaven! he could scarcely realize it.
“Oh, take me to mother, Rex!” cried Birdie, clinging to him piteously. “Oh, it can not, it cannot be true; take me to her, Rex!”
The sound of hushed weeping fell upon his ears and seemed to bring to him a sense of what was happening. Like one in a dream he hurried along the corridor toward his mother’s boudoir. He heard his mother’s voice calling for him.
“Where is my son?” she moaned.
He opened the door quietly and went in. Her dark eyes opened feebly as Rex entered, and she held out her arms to him.
“Oh, my son, my son!” she cried; “thank Heaven you are here!”
She clung to him, weeping bitterly. It was the first time he had ever seen tears in his mother’s eyes, and he was touched beyond words.
“It may not be as bad as you think, mother,” he said; “there is always hope while there is life.”