|
Main
- books.jibble.org
My Books
- IRC Hacks
Misc. Articles
- Meaning of Jibble
- M4 Su Doku
- Computer Scrapbooking
- Setting up Java
- Bootable Java
- Cookies in Java
- Dynamic Graphs
- Social Shakespeare
External Links
- Paul Mutton
- Jibble Photo Gallery
- Jibble Forums
- Google Landmarks
- Jibble Shop
- Free Books
- Intershot Ltd
|
books.jibble.org
Previous Page
| Next Page
Page 32
Cautioned by her mother's uplifted finger, she moved about
noiselessly, until she had made up a large and miscellaneous package
of articles; then descended quietly, inwardly resolving that the
"Nuss" as she called herself, should not for several weeks at least,
revisit the scene of her late operations.
Mrs. McNab was still pursuing her breakfast, and Ad�le sat down, with
what patience she could command, to wait for the close.
"You'll be wanting some ain to watch to-night, Miss Ady", said Aunt
Patty.
"Yes, Mr. Norton will do that. He has offered many times to watch. He
will be very kind and attentive to the invalid, I know".
"I s'pose he'll do as weel as he knows hoo, but I havena much faith in
a mon that sings profane sangs and ca's 'em relegious heems, to a
people that need the bread o' life broken to 'em".
"Have you heard him sing, Aunt Patty? I did not know you had attended
his meetings at the grove".
"I havena, surely. But when the windows were up, I heard him singin'
them jigs and reels, and I expectin' every minut to see the men,
women, and bairns a dancin'".
"They sit perfectly still, while he is singing", said Ad�le, "and
listen as intently as if they heard an angel. His voice is sometimes
like a flute, sometimes like a trumpet. Did you hear the words he
sang?"
"The wards! yes! them's the warst of a!" said Mrs. McNab, expanding
her nostrils with a snort of contempt. "They bear na resemblance
whatever to the Psalms o' David. I should as soon think o' singing
the' sangs o' Robby Burns at a relegious service as them blasphemous
things".
"Oh! Aunt Patty, you are wrong. He sings beautiful hymns, and he tells
these people just what they need. I hope they will listen to him and
reform".
"Weel he's a very light way o' carryin himself, for a minister o' the
gospel, I must say".
"He is cheerful, to be sure, and sympathizes with the people, and
helps them in their daily labor sometimes, if that is what you refer
to. I am sure that is right, and I like him for it", said Ad�le.
"Weel! I see he's a' in a' with you, noo", said Mrs. McNab, at last
rising from the table. "I'll go up noo and tak' leave o' the patient".
"No, no", said Ad�le. "He is sleeping. He must not be disturbed on any
account. His life may depend upon this slumber remaining unbroken".
She rose involuntarily and placed herself against the door leading to
the stairs.
Mrs. McNab grew red with anger, at being thus foiled. Turning aside to
hide her vexation, she waddled across the room, took her bonnet and
shawl from a peg she had appropriated to her special use, and
proceeded to invest herself for her departure.
"Weel! I s'pose ye'll expect me to come when ye send for me", said
she, turning round in the doorway with a grotesque distortion of her
face intended for an ironical smile.
"That is just as you please, Aunt Patty. We shall be happy to see you
whenever you choose to come. Good-by".
"Good by", said Mrs. McNab in a quacking, quavering, half resentful
tone, as she closed the door behind her.
Ad�le went immediately to the adjoining pantry, called Bess, a tidy
looking mulatto, gave her directions for the morning work and then
went up stairs to relieve her mother. Mrs. Dubois made signs to her
that she preferred not to resign her post. But Ad�le silently insisted
she should do so.
After her mother had left the room, she placed herself near the
bedside that she might observe the countenance and the breathing of
the invalid. His face was pale as that of death. His breath came and
went almost imperceptibly. The physician had excluded every ray of
sunshine and a hush, like that of the grave, reigned in the apartment.
In her intercourse with the people of the settlement, Ad�le had often
witnessed extreme illness and several dying scenes; but she had never
before felt herself so oppressed and awestruck as now. As she sat
there alone with the apparently dying man, she felt that a silent, yet
mighty struggle was going on between the forces of life and death. She
feared death would obtain the victory. By a terrible fascination, her
eyes became fixed on the ghastly face over which she fancied she could
perceive, more and more distinctly, shadows cast by the hand of the
destroyer. Every moment she thought of recalling her mother, but
feared that the slightest jarring movement of the atmosphere might
stop at once that feeble respiration. So she remained, watching terror
stricken, waiting for the last, absolute silence,--the immovable
repose.
Previous Page
| Next Page
|
|