Lucy did not ask her father any questions, but she hoped from hour to hour to hear him say that her brother was better; but no such cheering words fell from his lips.
Towards evening he hastily wrote a letter, and said to Lucy, as he handed it to her to send to the post, "I have written to Rosa to come home immediately. Tell Patty to have a room ready for Mr. Gillette; he will return with her."
These words were full of dreadful meaning to Lucy. Harty must be very ill, she knew, or Rosa would not have been sent for. Throwing aside her usual quiet manner, she clasped her father round the neck and sobbed upon his bosom. "Dear, dear father," she whispered, "do you think Harty will die?"
"God may spare him," said Dr. Vale, his strong frame shaking with emotion, and the tears in his eyes.
Lucy had never seen her father so much moved before, and she felt sure that he had very little hope that her brother would be well again.
She ceased sobbing, and a strange calmness came over her. Every impatient or unkind word that she had ever spoken to Harty came back to her; and oh how solemnly she resolved, if he should recover, to be a better sister to him than she had ever been before! She tried to remember something that Harty had said which could make her feel sure that he would be happy in heaven, if he should die. She thought of the Sunday evening when he had bid her "Good night" so kindly, and joined in saying the Catechism; of the first Sunday that he had made a prayer on entering church; and of the many times that he had listened with interest while Rosa talked of the Saviour. But these recollections did not set her mind at rest. She knew that God had said, "My son, give me thine heart;" and she felt sadly sure that Harty had never, in sincerity, given his heart to God.
CHAPTER XIV.
CONCLUSION.
Rosa reached home on Wednesday morning. Her bright smile had vanished, and her sweet eyes looked sad and tearful; yet her step was firm and her manner calm. Lucy felt sure when she met her sister, that she had found support in this great trouble from that God who bids us "cast all our care on Him, for He careth for us."
When Rosa bent over Harty, and called him by name, he looked strangely at her, and, muttering, turned away. At first this was almost too much for her to bear; but by degrees she became accustomed to it, and commanded herself sufficiently to relieve Mrs. Maxwell from her post as nurse. Poor Mrs. Maxwell was quite worn out, and was very glad to take a little rest. Lucy had darkened her room, that she might sleep the better; and as soon as the tired woman had lain down, she stationed herself by the door to keep the hall as quiet as possible. Lucy found that she had been unjust to Mrs. Maxwell. She had always thought her a stern woman with a cold heart; but when she saw how tenderly she watched by Harty's bedside, she felt that she should always love her for it, and never call her cross again, when she found fault about trifles.