Now that Adam was lying at the hospital, injured and helpless, many memories crowded through his wife's mind. The most abiding pictures were those which told of his patience towards herself, and of her want of sympathy in return, mingled with anxiety about the future of her husband and children.
"If," she thought, "Mr. Drummond has any real gratitude, he'll show it as well as talk about it. We shall soon know what his words are worth a week to us, now wages are stopped. And after Adam is better? If he ever does get well—" and Margaret's heart sank within her as she thought of the possible darker side. "Surely there will be some place found for my poor man at the old shop."
Margaret was so business-like, so prompt both to act and plan, that during the earliest hours of her new trouble, her mind had been occupied with many things. Regrets for the past, anxieties for the future, speculations as to what the firm, as represented by Mr. Drummond, and Mr. Drummond on his own account, might do for her husband—plans and resolutions for the greater comfort of her good, kind Adam and the children, each chased each other through her mind.
One thought added to the mental weight which oppressed her from the first moment she heard that Adam was hurt. There were six children already. A few weeks hence, the mother would need tending, and there would be another little mouth to feed. With the sense of work to be done, it was a trial to Margaret to take the needful rest which would enable her to visit her husband at the hospital. But when Mr. Drummond came with his cheering news, he showed his forethought for Margaret in more ways than one.
"I have asked Richard Evans to arrange for his wife to go with you to the hospital," he said. "She will be here in a cab directly, and in the meanwhile, if you feel equal to going, you will put on your bonnet, will you not? Mrs. Evans will take good care of you I am sure."
Margaret tried to utter words of thanks, but broke down in the effort. Quivering lips and tearful eyes told their story without speech.
"You must be brave, Mrs. Livesey, for Adam's sake. He has told me what a good wife he has. One who would take the last bit from her own lips to give to him or her children. And now you must do what is harder even than that to a loving heart, when one dearer to it than all the world beside is suffering. You must drive tears away, and give Adam a smile and hopeful, cheery words, which will be far-away better than medicine. Say nothing about wages or money matters. I hope his mind has already been eased on those points. On each pay day, Richard Evans shall bring you the full amount, until Adam is able to work for you all again."
No better remedy for Margaret's tears could have been suggested, as her brightened face promptly testified.
"I can't thank you, sir," she began—
"No thanks are needed," said Mr. Drummond. "I think I hear wheels. Now, mind, you are to be Adam's best doctor, and if you are inclined to be down-hearted, just think of poor Jim's wife, and what might have been your case and mine. You and I and my wife may well thank God with full hearts, for spared lives. I most of all, for I have no hurt, whilst I have the sorrow of knowing that a faithful friend has been injured through his efforts to save me."