[CHAPTER X.]
“Life’s a short summer,—man a flower—
He dies—alas! how soon he dies!”
For the next few weeks Meg and Robert were almost daily visitors at the Walker home. They could see that Charlie was failing very rapidly, but it was plain that his wife did not realize it, and that he did not wish her to.
One day Robert drove up to Mrs. Weston’s in his uncle’s phaeton, and Meg knew instinctively why he had come. Throwing on her hat, she ran out and asked breathlessly, “Oh, is it about Charlie?”
His face was grave as he answered, “The doctor has just told me that he cannot live through the day.”
“And Ada?”
“She knows,—now,” was the low reply.
“Poor, poor girl!” Meg said in quivering accents.
Robert looked at her with an expression he was himself unconscious of, but she did not meet his eyes.