"What's this?" cried Kate, touching the last of the parcels.
"A bottle of wine for mamma. She will soon look so fit and rosy that we shan't know her, for we shall have nothing to do but nurse her up."
"My goodness!" cried Kate. "Wine! Mamma, here's some wine for you!"
But there was no answer. Poor Mrs. Raynor lay back in her chair unable to speak, the silent tears stealing down her worn cheeks.
Charles bent over and kissed her. Little Bob, in his nightgown, crouched down by her side at the fire; whilst Edina, throwing off her shawl and bonnet, began to prepare for supper.
[CHAPTER VIII.]
HARD LINES
Lying in her darkened chamber, sick almost unto death, was Mrs. Frank Raynor. A baby, a few days old, slept in a cot by the wall. No other child had been born to her, until now, since that season of peril at Eagles' Nest: and just as her life had all but paid the forfeit then, so it had again now. She was in danger still; she, herself, thought dying.
An attentive nurse moved noiselessly about the room. Edina stood near the bed, fanning the poor pale face resting on it. The window was wide open, behind the blind: for the invalid's constant cry throughout the morning had been, "Give me air!"
A light, quick step on the stairs, and Frank entered. He took the fan from Edina's tired hand, and she seized the opportunity to go down to the kitchen, to help Eve with the jelly ordered by Dr. Tymms; a skilful practitioner, who had been in constant attendance. Daisy opened her eyes to look at her husband, and the nurse quitted the room, leaving them together.