As she spoke she looked at the writing upon the back of the paper, and saw “Sugar of Lead” written upon it in large letters, and the word “poison” beneath.
Clara saw that the paper was now empty, and she knew that Ellen must have eaten its contents. She turned deadly pale, and for a few moments stood motionless, as if at a loss what to do. Then rushing to the staircase, she screamed to her mother and Margaret in such a frantic manner that they both ran to her in great alarm.
“Oh, mother, mother!” she sobbed, “I have killed Ellen. I left her alone for a few minutes, while I listened to Mary’s music-box, and she has eaten some sugar of lead.”
“Eaten sugar of lead!” exclaimed Mrs. Gray. “It is impossible, for it was upon the upper shelf in the closet; she could not have reached it.”
“No, no, mother, she did not reach it; but I left it on the table, and forgot to put it back, and then I forgot to return to Ellen, and stood listening to the music a long time. She has eaten it all, and she will die, mother. Oh, what shall I do?”
Poor Margaret had caught Ellen in her arms, and was now sobbing as if her heart would break; but Mrs. Gray, with more presence of mind, begged her to be calm, and not alarm the child, as any agitation might hasten the effect of the poison.
“Do you, Margaret, go immediately for Dr. Gregory,” she said, “and Clara must go to her father’s office and ask him to come directly home. There was but a small quantity in the paper. We may do much for her if we are calm.”
Then, taking the child in her own arms, she spoke to her in a quiet and soothing manner, and taking her up stairs, gave her an antidote for poison, and then amused her until the physician and Mr. Gray arrived.
Prompt and judicious remedies in a measure counteracted the fatal effects of the poison, but a serious illness could not be avoided. For many days little Ellen seemed to hover between life and death, and even after the physician had pronounced her out of danger, she was for a long time so feeble that no one would have supposed her to be the same child who had seemed so full of life and health but a few weeks before.
I shall not attempt to describe the agony which poor Clara suffered during the sickness of her little cousin. Her parents treated her with great kindness, for they thought the lesson she had received was sufficiently severe, without adding to it by their reproaches.