Her voice trembled, but there was a happy ring to it withal, and presently she saw that he slept again, his face looking happy and peaceful as it rested on the pillows.
When the doctor made his usual visit, he stayed a long time in the room, and he looked very serious as he called Dexie to the door.
"You realize how ill your father is, do you not, Miss Sherwood?" and he looked earnestly into her face. "Ah! I see you do. I wished to prepare you for the worst. I will come in later in the day and see if I can be of use."
"You think there is immediate danger, Dr. Brown?"
"He may live through the day--not much longer, I fear. You have been expecting this, have you not?"
"I was afraid of it," and she hid her face in her hands.
"Is there anyone I can send for, for you? If I can be of use in any way, Miss Sherwood, command me."
"Someone must tell mamma; she does not believe the end is so very near.
Would you do it? Does papa know it himself, doctor?" she added, after a pause.
"Yes, and he wished me to make it known to the rest. Be brave a little while longer. Now, go back to your father. You can rely on Jarvis; she knows what to do, and has been through many trying scenes before to-day."
"Shall we send for you if--" She could not say it, but the doctor knew what she meant.
"Yes, if you like. I can do little, if anything, more; but he will not suffer any. Now I will see your mother," and he turned and left her to her grief.
It took some time for Mrs. Sherwood to fully realize the truth, for she listened to the doctor as if dazed. It was the first trouble that had ever really touched her, and at the suggestion of Jarvis she went to her room, where by degrees she grew calmer, as the terrible truth came home to heart that she was soon to be left a widow and her children fatherless.
When Louie came into her father"s room a few moments later, and learned the truth, she threw her arms around Dexie"s neck and wept with her. This was the darkest hour they had ever known. But there was no time to indulge in grief at present--that would come later--and Dexie whispered:
"Take Gussie up to her room, Louie, and tell her there, and do not let her come down till she is quiet. Warn Georgie not to go away from the house; papa may ask for him any minute. I am so thankful the doctor has told mamma! Watch the door, Louie, and when the minister calls to-day try and persuade mamma to see him. She would not see him the last time he was here.
Oh, dear! I shall be so glad when Guy comes in!"
"Give me one little bit of comfort to cheer my heart this sad day, Dexie.
Tell me, what is Guy Traverse to you--do, Dexie?"
"Dear Louie, you _shall_ know, if you think it will comfort you any. He is my promised husband."
"I thought so all the time, and I am so glad!" and she turned away to prepare Gussie for the dreaded hour.
The time pa.s.sed heavily and sadly, until the day drew near its close. Mrs.
Jarvis was sitting near the bed, watching, with the eyes of an experienced nurse, for any change, and presently she bent over Dexie, who was kneeling by the bedside, and whispered:
"I think I had better bring back your mother. Do you think she can bear it?"
"She _must_ bear it!" Dexie answered, with a sob.
As Jarvis left the room, Guy quietly entered it, and saw at a glance that the end was near. Dexie gave him one appealing look as he came beside her.
Bending over, he laid his arm across her shoulder, and whispered:
"Is there anything I can do, darling?"
Dexie shook her head, and the look on her face told of the anguish that was wringing her heart.
Seeing that her father had opened his eyes, she bent nearer.
"Are you in pain, dear papa?"
"No, dear child; and I shall soon be where that question is never asked."
Lifting his eyes, he saw Guy, and his lips parted in a smile.
"So glad you have come, my boy!" and he held out his hand. "You have indeed been like a son to me from the very first. You will be good to my little girl, and do not wait to claim her; take her very soon, and do not let her fret for me. Raise me up, Traverse! Ah! that is easier," as Guy seated himself on the bed, and raised his head and shoulders on a pillow with his arm.
Supported by Guy"s arm, and with his head leaning against Guy"s shoulder, Mr. Sherwood embraced his wife, who was led to the bedside by Jarvis, and Dexie bowed her head from the sight of the despair written on her mother"s face.
The family were soon a.s.sembled around the bed. Mrs. Jarvis lifted Flossie in her arms, and telling her to "kiss papa good-night," laid her on the bed beside him a moment, then carried her from the room, and the few loving words spoken to Georgie did much to make him grow up a true, good man.
Gussie was overcome with grief when she realized that her father was dying, but Louie"s loving arm was thrown around her, and she restrained her sobs to hear her father"s last few words.
It was a sad scene. The dying father, supported in the arms of Guy Traverse, was looking for the last time on the faces of his family. Dexie, kneeling close to where Guy sat, with one of her father"s hands clasped in both her own, was silently weeping. Mrs. Sherwood was kneeling on the opposite side of the bed, her face hidden against her dying husband"s breast. Louie and Gussie stood near, their arms around each other"s waists; while Mrs. Jarvis stood behind them, her arms extended across their shoulders, as if she would willingly protect them from this anguish if she could. Poor Georgie sobbed at the foot of the bed, a picture of childish woe.
The minister"s words of peace and comfort, spoken at this moment, were sorely needed, for the prayer had scarcely ended when Mrs. Sherwood raised her eyes to her husband"s face and saw the change that pa.s.sed over it. A few murmured words fell from his lips as he looked into her face, then his eyes closed and his spirit was gone to the G.o.d who gave it.
Guy laid the form gently back on the bed, and something in his face must have told the stricken wife that all was over, for her piercing shriek chilled everyone to the heart.
Guy was just in time to catch Dexie"s fainting form and bear her from the room, when the children round the bedside understood that they were fatherless.
CHAPTER XLIII.
Many changes took place in the household during the weeks following Mr.
Sherwood"s death. It was a sorrowful time to live through, and a most unpleasant memory to look back upon.
These were days of trial to Dexie. There was no one in the house that she could turn to for sympathy, for Louie had returned home the week after the funeral, and the house seemed desolate.
Mrs. Jarvis was called away by a case of sickness in another household, and Gussie, finding herself free from all restraint, made so many unreasonable demands on the patient and willing domestic that she refused to submit to it longer, and left the house; consequently, the actual work of the household, as well as the care and responsibility, rested on Dexie"s shoulders.
Mrs. Sherwood had not left her room since the day her husband was buried, and her frequent hysterical attacks were very alarming to the rest of the family. She seemed as fretful and helpless as a child, and quite as unreasonable, almost blaming her husband for dying and leaving her alone in the world.
When Dexie tried to draw her thoughts away from their sad bereavement, she charged her daughter with being hard-hearted and unsympathizing in the extreme, and it seemed as if she did not wish to be comforted.
Lawyer Hackett attended the funeral, but as Mrs. Sherwood was not able to discuss business matters at that unhappy time, he promised to return later on and explain all things necessary.
Dexie awaited his return with much anxiety, for the expenses of the funeral, together with their necessary mourning, left little ready money to meet the daily expenses, and it was only by the strictest economy that she managed at all. Her "scrimping," as Gussie called it, met with no favor from anyone; and though Mrs. Sherwood talked of "ordering" this and that from the store, Dexie positively refused to be the mouthpiece of the order.
They could do very well till Mr. Hackett arrived, she said.
Dexie missed her father sorely, and the one bright spot in the long, toilsome day was when Guy came in the evening. Then they would walk out together through the quiet streets to the country beyond, and she always returned refreshed and strengthened to bear the burden of another day.