There was something in Rosa's quiet, dignified manner that awed Mrs. Maxwell: she came forward and took Lucy from their arms without another word, while Rosa hastened to her room to put herself in order to wait upon her sister. In a few moments she was neatly dressed, and standing by Lucy's bedside.
Dr. Vale had returned, and having heard from Harty an account of the matter, was soon with his little daughter. He ordered a warm draught to be administered, and said he did not think she needed any other medicine, as she seemed not to be really injured, only much agitated by the fright.
He kissed the little girl tenderly as he thought how near he had been to losing his pet, and greatly praised Rosa's promptness and courage in saving her from the death with which she was threatened.
Lucy could not thank her sister, for she felt guilty, as she remembered the unkind, suspicious thoughts that were in her mind when the accident happened. She shuddered at the idea that she might have died while her spirit was so unfit to go into the presence of the holy God. She felt that she had been very wicked, and she could not believe that God would pardon her.
"I know I shall be very ill," she said to herself, "because I was so naughty, and perhaps I shall die, and then nobody would care, and Harty and Rosa would be just as happy."
This last thought checked her half-formed resolution to tell her sister of her wrong feelings; and she turned away from the kind face that was bending down to her, and said, "I wish you would go away, I had rather be alone."
Rosa did go, but only to the door of her own room that was opposite: there she placed her chair, that she might be near, if Lucy should be lonely or want anything, little thinking what was in her sister's heart.
Lucy lay very still all the evening. Rosa thought she was sleeping, and did not disturb her. During those long, dark hours, Rosa was not sad. She had many pleasant thoughts. She liked to be alone, sometimes, for then she could more fully realize that God was with her.
Nine o'clock came, yet Rosa did not like to leave her sister: often during the evening she had stolen to her side to see if she were still sleeping. Once she stooped and kissed her; then Lucy longed to throw her arms around the neck of the kind watcher, and say that she had not been asleep; but something kept her silent.
At ten, the doctor came in. Rosa stole softly down stairs and told him how quiet the little girl had been during the evening. "But, dear father," she said, "I do not like to leave her alone to-night. May I not lay her in my bed, where I shall be sure to know if she wakes, and wants anything?"