He went farther down the garden-walk than he had ever gone yet; and he looked so cheerful, sitting in the sunshine, that Christie smiled at her unreasonable fears. Alas! that day was to be ever memorable to the Redfern children, as the last on which the sunshine ever rested on their father’s face. He never trod the garden path again.
That night Effie came home, and did not go away again till all was over. Christie never knew very well how those days passed. She remembered running down the lane to meet her sister in the twilight, and the irresistible impulse that came over her to tell of the terrible fear that had come upon her as she sat that night with her father’s hand on her head. She called herself foolish and weak, and hastened to tell her sister how much better he had been through the day, how he had walked down the garden and enjoyed the sunshine, and how easy and peaceful he had been since then. But the shadow that had fallen on Effie’s face at her first words did not pass away as she continued to speak; and it was with eyes opened to see “the beginning of the end” that she came into her father’s chamber.
She did not leave him again. Christie slept on the couch near him; but all night long Effie sat with her eyes fixed on her father’s changing face. He did not bid her lie down, as he was wont to do. He always smiled when he met her look, and once he said, “I have much to say to you, Effie;” but, while she listened for more, he slumbered again. And so the night passed.
The light of the morning made the change more visible. Sarah saw it when she came in. They did not need to tell each other what they feared. When Christie awoke, it was to see the anxious faces of the three sisters bending over their father. She rose mechanically, and stood beside them.
“Is he worse?” she asked. “He seems sleeping quietly.”
She did not need to say more.
“Annie,” said Effie, in a little time, beckoning her sister away from the bed, “Aunt Elsie must have her breakfast before she is told this; and the bairns—” Effie’s voice failed her for a moment. “We must try and keep them quiet.”
Annie said something in a low voice about the doctor; Effie shook her head.
“It’s of no use,” said Effie. “Still, we might send. I’ll tell James.” And she went out.
A little after daybreak he seemed to rouse himself for a moment; but he soon slumbered again. By and by their neighbours, who had heard from the messenger sent for the doctor that Mr Redfern was worse, came dropping in. They looked in for a moment upon the group of girls gathered round their father’s bed, and then, for the most part, seated themselves in the outer room with Aunt Elsie. Mrs Nesbitt and her son John lingered in the room, and whispered together. In a little while the mother beckoned to Effie.