“Is there no hope, father?” asked Jack, turning very white and speaking very low.
“Yes, lad, yes, there is hope, thank God; he may rally; it is the fall on the gate-post that has done the mischief. He struck the back of his head against the stone; the place on the temple is a mere trifle. But will you walk in, Mr. Leslie? Dr. Bates wants to speak to you, and you too, Jack.”
Accordingly these four went into the kitchen and shut themselves up to discuss the matter, leaving Fairy feeling very miserable and in the way, for she did not know where to go, on the bench outside. But a few minutes later Mrs. Shelley came to the door to look for her, wondering what had become of her, having forgotten her hasty speech on seeing Charlie lying prostrate on the ground.
“Why, Fairy, where have you been all this time? Come, child, you have had no supper yet. How pale you look; and your hands are quite cold. You are not frightened, are you?” said Mrs. Shelley, as Fairy reluctantly followed her into the house.
“No, I am not frightened, but it is all so miserable,” said Fairy, sobbing, as she looked at the unconscious Charlie, who was breathing almost imperceptibly on the sofa.
“Come, this won’t do; I shall have you ill next; why, the child has cried more to-night than she ever cried all the sixteen years she has been here,” said Mrs. Shelley, taking Fairy in her arms.
“You were never unkind to me before,” sobbed Fairy.
Suddenly Mrs. Shelley remembered how she had turned on Fairy in her anxiety and pity for Jack.
“There, child, don’t cry any more; I don’t know what I said; but at any rate I can’t let you quarrel with me when I may lose one, if not both, of my sons; for I am sure they will decide to send Jack away—indeed, I hope they will,” said Mrs. Shelley.
“You hope so, mother?” asked Fairy, in astonishment.