"I did not clearly understand. But he has a fever of some kind. You remember his mother very well?"
"Oh, yes. You know she worked for me. Edward is her only child, I believe."
"Yes; and his loss to her will be almost everything."
"Is he dangerous?" I enquired, a feeling of interest beginning to stir in my heart.
"He is not expected to live."
"Poor woman! How distressed she must be! I wonder what her circumstances are just at this time. She seemed very poor when she worked for me."
"And she is very poor still, I doubt not. She has herself been sick, and during the time it is more than probable that Edward's wages were all her income. I am afraid she has not now the means of procuring for her sick boy things necessary for his comfort. Could you not go around there this afternoon, and see how they are?"
I shook my head instantly at this proposition, for sympathy for others was not strong enough to expel my selfish despondency of mind.
"Then I must step around," replied my husband, "before I go back to business, although I have a great deal to do to-day. It would not be right to neglect this lad and his mother under present circumstances."
I felt rebuked at these words, and, with an effort, said: