CHAPTER XVI.
LIVING IN LUXURY.
Mrs. Howard went back and sat down in mournful silence beside her dead daughter, whose beauty was so soon to be hidden in the grave.
The lovely face, so white and still, with the dark fringe of the lashes lying on the cheeks, seemed so heavenly pure and peaceful that a strange awe stole over the mother’s heart, and she murmured:
“My angel child, how sweetly wise you look, as if already you had fathomed the divine mysteries of heaven.”
Then her sorrow overwhelmed her again, and, quite forgetting Fair Fielding and her troubles, she bowed her head on her hand, and the waves of despair rolled over her.
Meanwhile Fair had lain down, as Mrs. Howard had directed, and fallen asleep upon the luxurious bed. When the maid went in to see after her, a little later, she found that her breath was hurried and labored, and her face crimson with fever.
Days of delirious pain followed, and when Fair at last awoke to consciousness Azalia Howard had been buried more than a week, and the bereaved mother, with her sad, gentle, blue eyes, sat watching her protégée with anxious interest.
“Mother!” Fair murmured restlessly; and then, as she met the gaze of those anxious eyes, memory rushed over her again, and she knew that the mother on whom she called was dead, and that this gentle lady was the only friend she had on earth save Sadie Allen, the poor working girl.
But Mrs. Howard, as she heard that tender name fall from Fair’s lips, fancied that it was applied to herself, and smiled gently as she said:
“Yes, call me mother, dear girl, for from henceforth you are my adopted child, and my heart hungers for some one to call me mother.”