Grandmother Elsie

by Martha Finley

  CHAPTER V.

  "I feel Of this dull sickness at my heart afraid And in my eyes the death sparks flash and fade And something seems to steal Over my bosom like a frozen hand." --_Willis_.

  Dr. Arthur Conly rode briskly up the avenue at Roselands, dismounted,throwing the bridle to a servant, and went up the steps into the veranda,whistling softly to himself.

  "You seem in good spirits, Art," remarked Calhoun, who sat there with themorning paper in his hand. "I haven't heard you whistle before for--well Ishould say something like a fortnight."

  "I am in good spirits, Cal, the Ion children are out of danger, and unclehas just had a telegram from Ned announcing the safe arrival of theirparty in New York in good season to take the steamer."

  "I presume this tells the same story, though I can't think why it isn'tdirected to grandpa, or to me as the eldest son of the house," Calhounsaid, handing an unopened telegram to his brother.

  Arthur tore it hastily open, glanced at the contents and paled to the verylips.

  "What is it?" cried Calhoun in alarm.

  "Mother!" said Arthur huskily, putting the paper into his brother'soutstretched hand. "She has been struck down with apoplexy. Cal, I musttake the first train for New York. Look at the paper, see when it leaves.Thank God that those children are out of danger! But I must see whom I canget to take charge of them and my other patients during my absence."

  Then calling to a servant he directed a fresh horse to be saddled andbrought to the door with all speed, and hurrying into the house, summonedhis old mammy and bade her pack a valise with such clothing as he wouldneed on a journey to the North which might occupy a week or more.

  "You are acting very promptly," Calhoun said, following him in to give thedesired information in regard to the train.

  "Yes, there's not a minute to lose, Cal."

  Calhoun's face was full of grief and anxiety. "I think I should go, too,Art, if--if you think there's any probability of--finding her alive."

  "It's impossible to tell. But we can hardly both be spared from home. Itshould be kept from grandpa as long as possible, and if he saw us bothrushing off in the direction she has taken, he would know at once thatsomething very serious had happened her."

  "Yes, you are right, and for the first time I envy you your medicalknowledge and skill. She's with Virginia, the message is sent by her,"glancing again at the paper which he still held in his hand. "I'm glad ofthat--that she has at least one of her children with her, if----"

  He paused and Arthur finished the sentence. "If she will be of any use orcomfort to her, you were about to say? Well, we can only hope that soterrible an emergency has developed some hitherto unsuspected excellenciesin Virginia's character."

  A horse came galloping up the avenue. Calhoun glanced from the window.

  "Another telegram!" he cried, and both brothers dashed out upon theveranda.

  This was directed to Calhoun, sent from Philadelphia by their uncle EdwardAllison. He and Adelaide would be with Mrs. Conly in two hours, telegraphat once in what condition they found her, and if practicable start withher immediately for her home.

  The brothers consulted together, and Arthur decided to go on with hispreparations, but delay setting out upon his journey until the coming ofthe promised message.

  It came in due time, and from it they learned that their mother wasalready on her way home.

  The sad tidings had now to be communicated to the other near relatives,but it was deemed best to keep them from the younger children and thefeeble old father until the day when she might be expected to arrive.

  As gently and tenderly as possible the old gentleman's son broke the newsto him.

  He was much overcome. "She will never get over it, I fear," he sighed, thetears coursing down his furrowed cheeks. "One bereavement is apt to treadclosely upon the heels of another, and she will probably soon follow hersister. But oh if I only knew that she had been washed from her sins inthe precious blood of Christ, that she had accepted His invitation, 'Comeunto me,' so that death would be but falling asleep in Him, safe in Hisarms, safe on His gentle breast--I think I could let her go almostwillingly, for my race is well nigh run, and it can hardly be long ere Itoo shall get my summons home."

  "Dear father, if such be the will of God, may you be spared to us for manyyears yet," returned his son with emotion. "And Louise! We do not know herexact condition, but let us hope that God will in His great mercy give heryet more time--months or years--in which to prepare for eternity. We willcry earnestly for her, and in the name of Christ, to Him who hath said, 'Ihave no pleasure in the death of him that dieth,' but bids them 'Turnyourselves and live ye.'"

  "Yes; and whose promise is, 'If two of you shall agree on earth, astouching anything that they shall ask, it shall be done for them of myFather which is in heaven!'"

  Silence fell between them for a moment, then the old gentleman asked,"What arrangements have the boys made? She will hardly be able to drivehome in a carriage."

  "Oh no! they will meet her at the depot with an ambulance, and I shall bethere with the carriage for Mr. Allison, Adelaide, and Virginia."

  "Virginia is coming too?"

  "We do not know certainly, but expect to see her with the others."

  "I cannot say that I hope you will. I never saw a more useless person; shewill be only in the way; and--I cannot banish a suspicion that she hasbrought this attack upon her poor mother. I strongly suspect thatVirginia's match has turned out a very bad one, and that she has heapedreproaches upon her mother for the hand she had in bringing it about."

  "I hope not!" his son exclaimed with energy; "for if so it must surely bethe cause of life-long self-reproach to her. Will you go with us to thedepot, father?"

  "No, no, my son! let my first sight of my poor stricken child be where wewill not be the gazing stock of an idle, curious crowd. I shall meet herhere at my own door."

  The train steamed into the depot, and Mrs. Allison, glancing from a windowof the parlor-car, saw her brother and nephews standing near the track.

  They saw her, too, and lifted their hats with a sad sort of smile. Allfelt that the invalid must be unable to sit up or her face also would havebeen in sight.

  In another moment the train had come to a stand-still, and the next thethree gentlemen were beside the couch on which Mrs. Conly lay.

  She looked up at her sons with eyes full of intelligence, made an effortto speak, but in vain; and the big tears rolled down her cheeks.

  They bent over her with hearts and eyes full to overflowing.

  "Mother, dear mother, we are glad you have come to us alive," Calhoun saidin low, tremulous tones.

  "And we hope we shall soon have you much better," added Arthur.

  "Yes," said Adelaide, "she is already better than when we first saw her inNew York, but has not yet recovered her speech and can not help herselfat all. One side seems to be quite paralyzed."

  "We have an ambulance waiting," said Calhoun. "As soon as the crowd is outof the way it shall be brought close to the platform of this car and wewill lift her into it."

  Greetings were exchanged while they waited.

  "Where is Virginia?" asked Mr. Dinsmore.

  "She preferred to remain behind," replied Mrs. Allison in a low-tonedaside, "and as she would have been of no use whatever, we did not urge herto come."

  "It is just as well," was Mr. Dinsmore's comment.

  Very tenderly and carefully the poor invalid was lifted and placed in theambulance by her sons and brothers. The former accompanied her in it,while the latter, with Mrs. Allison, entered the Roselands familycarriage, and drove thither considerably in advance of the more slowlymoving ambulance.

  "Has Virginia made a really good match?" Mr. Dinsmore asked, addressinghis sister Adelaide.

  "Good! it could hardly be worse!" she exclaimed. "Would you have believedit? we found them in a tenement-house, living most wretchedly."

  "
Is it possible! He was not wealthy then? Or has he lost his means sincethe marriage?"

  "As far as I can learn," said Mr. Allison, "he has always lived by hiswits; he is a professional gambler now."

  "Dreadful! How does he treat his wife?"

  "Very badly indeed, if we may credit her story. They live, as the sayingis, like cat and dog, actually coming to blows at times. They are bothbitterly disappointed, each having married the other merely for money;which neither had."

  Mr. Dinsmore looked greatly concerned. "Virginia was never a favorite ofmine," he remarked, "but I do not like to think of her as suffering fromeither poverty or the abusive treatment of a bad husband. Can nothing bedone to better her condition?"

  "I think not at present," said Adelaide; "she has made her bed and willhave to lie in it. I don't believe the man would ever proceed to personalviolence if she did not exasperate him with taunts and reproaches; withslaps, scratches, and hair pulling also, he says."

  "O disgraceful!" exclaimed her uncle. "I have no pity for her if she isreally guilty of such conduct."

  "She told me herself that on one occasion she actually threw a cup ofcoffee in his face in return for his accusation that she and her motherhad inveigled him into the marriage by pretences to wealth they did notpossess. Poor Louise! I have no doubt her attack was brought on by thediscovery of the great mistake she and Virginia had made, and reproachesheaped on her for her share in making the match."

  "'Whatsoever a man soweth, that shall he also reap,'" sighed Mr. Dinsmore."I presume Virginia was too proud to show herself here among relativeswhose approval of the match had not been asked, and acquaintances who hadheard of it as a splendid affair?"

  "Your conjecture is entirely correct," said Adelaide. "She gave vent toher feelings on the subject in her mother's presence, supposing, Ipresume, as I did, that not being able to speak or move, she was alsounable to hear or understand, but it was evident from the piteousexpression her countenance assumed and the tears coursing down her cheekythat she did both."

  "Poor Louise! she has a sad reaping--so far as that ungrateful, undutifuldaughter is concerned; but Isa, Calhoun, and Arthur are of quite anotherstamp."

  "Yes, indeed! she will surely find great comfort in them. I wish Isa wasnot so far away. But you have not told me how my dear old father is. Howhas he borne this shock?"

  "It was a shock of course, especially to one so old and feeble; but I lefthim calmly staying himself upon his God."

  They arrived at Roselands some time before the ambulance. They found thewhole household, and also Mrs. Howard, her husband and sons, and Mrs.Travilla, gathered upon the veranda to receive them.

  Lora stood by her father's side and Elsie too was very near, both full ofloving care for him in this time of sore trial.

  And Adelaide's first thought, first embrace, were for him. They wept amoment in each other's arms.

  "Is she--is she alive?" he faltered.

  "Yes, father, and we hope may get up again. Be comforted for her and foryourself; because 'He doeth all things well,' and 'We know that all thingswork together for good to them that love God.'"

  "Yes, yes; and who can tell but this may be His appointed means forbringing her into the fold!"

  There had been time for an exchange of greetings all around and a fewcomforting words to the younger Conlys, when the ambulance was seenentering the avenue.

  With beating hearts and tearful eyes they watched its slow progress. Lyinghelpless and speechless in the shadow of death, Louise Conly seemednearer and dearer than ever before to father, children, brothers andsisters.

  The ambulance stopped close to the veranda steps, and the same strong,loving arms that had placed her in it now lifted her anew and bore herinto the house, the others looking on in awed and tearful silence.

  She was carried to her own room, laid upon the bed, and one by one theystood for an instant at her side with a kiss of welcome.

  It was evident that she knew them all, though able to speak only withthose sad, wistful eyes that gazed with new yearning affection into thefaces of father and children.

  But presently Arthur, by virtue of his medical authority, banished allfrom the room except Lora, Elsie, and a faithful and attached old negresswho had lived all her days in the family and was a competent nurse.