Clinton called daily at the house, to inquire after Mary, but as it was important to keep her as quiet as possible, he did not go into the sick chamber. His mother, however, came over every day, and sometimes remained all night, greatly assisting Mrs. Preston in taking care of the sick one. Mary’s delirium continued with little interruption for two or three days. When she came out of this state, she cast a recognizing look at her mother and sisters, who were seated in the room, and then, in a low voice, inquired:—
“Mother, where is Jerry?”
“Jerry is not here, dear,” replied Mrs. Preston; “he has not yet got back.”
“Where has he gone?”
“I don’t know where he is—he went away before you was taken sick, but we hope he will be back soon.”
“But I saw him here yesterday, mother,” continued Mary, who had a confused remembrance of some of the impressions of her delirium.
“No, darling, you are mistaken, you dreamed that you saw him—that was all.”
Mary looked disappointed; and as her recollection of Jerry’s disappearance returned, she added mournfully:—
“Then I shan’t see Jerry again before I die—nor father either.”
“O, yes you will,” quickly replied her mother, startled at these words; “you will soon get well, I hope, and father will be home, before many weeks, and Jerry, too, perhaps.”