CHAPTER VI.
THE WICKED NURSE.
For two days Mrs. Gray scarcely left the nursery for a moment. The poor little babe would lie and sleep for hours together, and when he was awake he would scream and throw his head back as if he was going into a fit. The lady would take him from Maria, and hold him on her breast, and carry him about the room trying to soothe him, until at last he would fall asleep again. All this time she had never been able to see that Maria gave him any thing but his food. This was cream and boiling water, made pretty sweet with loaf sugar, and she fed him with a spoon.
One day the lady came in just as she was going to feed him, and asked to taste of it.
Maria held up the cup without speaking.
"It is very nice," said the lady. "I can't see why it distresses him so." She then turned to leave the room, but as she did so, she saw a strange kind of smile come over Maria's face; and it brought all the old suspicions to her mind. When she reached the entry, she came suddenly back again, and saw Maria pouring some dark-colored drops from a small vial into the cup. Then she took the spoon and began to feed the baby again, laying the vial close behind her on the chair.
Mrs. Gray sprang forward before Maria knew she was in the room, caught it, and held it up to the light. The word Laudanum was printed on the label.
For one moment, her heart beat so fast that she could not speak; then she snatched the poor baby from Maria's arms, threw a large cradle blanket around him, and ran down stairs to the library, where her brother was writing.
"Here, Edward," she exclaimed,—"here is the food Maria feeds your little son upon;" and she held out the bottle toward him. "I have suspected her all along; but to-day I saw her pouring some into the cup."
"Where is the wretch?" asked the poor father, his cheeks growing very white. "How dared she do this?"