“Tell me again, dear, are you well?”
“Oh, yes, papa, but poor mamma!”
“Mamma! What of her? Is she sick? What is it? Tell me quick!” And again he was pushed from the heaven of happiness to the bottomless pit of doubt. “Is mamma sick? where is she?”
“Oh, papa, the doctor says she is going to—”
“Hush,” said the neighbor. “Step inside, sir; the doctor is with her now; he will soon be down. Prepare yourself, Mr. Morgan; your wife is very low. The servant's carelessness caused an explosion in the kitchen, setting herself on fire; your wife ran to her assistance and saved her life, but, I fear, at the expense of her own.”
“I must see her.”
“No, sir, not now; be guided by me for a moment. The doctor will soon be down.”
He took Mary in his arms and they wept together. Oh, if his wife, his darling wife! were to be taken from him! It was the cruelest blow God ever struck! And she saving another's life, too! He cursed and raved, but it was in his own heart; and Mary, crying on his breast, only knew what comfort it was to have her papa once more with her.
The physician came down with manner so grave that it told its own story. “There is scarcely a chance,” he said; “you can go to her; she will not know you.”
“When did this happen?”