"O Lord of hosts, blessed is the man that trusteth in thee." "For thou, Lord, wilt bless the righteous; with favor wilt thou compass him as with a shield."
There seemed no earthly friend left to come to Mildred's aid; she could think of none. Claudina Chetwood and Lucilla Grange were both themselves lying upon sick beds; so were all her lady acquaintances in Pleasant Plains except such as, like herself, had their hands more than full with the care of the sick in their own families; and Aunt Wealthy was so far, far away that before a message could reach her, they might all be in their graves.
How long it seemed since she went away! how long since the beginning of this dreadful sickly season that had, as it were, shut her (Mildred) away from all pleasant social intercourse with her young companions into her own little world of trial and trouble!
It was a comfort that some one was attending to domestic affairs, some one sitting with her sick father and Rupert, who now shared his bed; but ah, she could not more than half attend to the pressing needs of the others.
The day was intensely hot, scarce a breath of air stirring though every door and window stood wide open. The little boys feverish and restless, wanted to be fanned every moment, and called almost incessantly for "cold fresh water."
The others craved it, too; and it could be had only from the spring at the foot of the steep river bank. And ice being an unknown luxury in Pleasant Plains at that period, it could not be kept cool for any length of time.
She did not feel at liberty to call upon either Miss Drybread or Mr. Lord for this service, and as the one judged it unnecessary that the water should be brought frequently and the other was too absent-minded to think of offering to bring it, and she could not leave her charges to go herself, even if her strength had been equal to the effort in addition to all the other demands upon it, she could but endure the pain of seeing the loved ones suffer from thirst.
"Water, water, cold water, Milly," sobbed little Don.
"This is cold water, dear," she said holding a cup to his lips.
"No, 'tisn't right cold," he fretted, pushing it away; "it doesn't taste good. Oh, send somebody to bring cold, cold water!"