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"Have patience with me," he said, "a little longer; the blow is so sudden, so terrible, I cannot yet realize what the world is without Madaline." A few hours passed, and the self-control he had struggled for was his. He sent for Dr. Letsom. "I have been thinking over what is best," he said, "and have decided on all my plans. Have you leisure to discuss them with me?"
Inside the house was the strange hush that dangerous sickness always brings with it. The doctor had in haste summoned the best nurse in Castledene, Hannah Furney, who shook her head gravely when she saw the beautiful pale face. An hour passed, and again Dr. Letsom sought his distinguished guest. "I am sorry not to bring better news," he said.
Letsom knew very well that if the earl were still living at the end of the three years his son would tell him of his marriage. On a bright, sunshiny day in June the doctor walked over to Ashwood. He had a little packet of fruit and cakes with him, and a wonderful doll, dressed most royally.
It was the close Of an autumn day, and Dr. Stephen Letsom had been standing for some time at his window watching the sun go down. It faded slowly out of the western sky. There had been a golden flush with the sunset which changed into crimson, then into purple, and finally into dull gray tints that were forerunners of the shades of night. Dr. Stephen Letsom had watched it with sad, watchful eyes.
Doctor, my best and safest plan will be to make a friend of you, to confide in you, and then we can arrange together what had better be done. Can you spare me five minutes?" Stephen Letsom nodded assent, and sat down to listen to as strange a story as he bad ever heard. "I should imagine," said the strange gentleman, "that no man likes to plead guilty to a folly. I must do so.
Her little child, the one gleam of sunshine that her darkened life had ever known, was born in the little cottage, and there it had died. Dr. Letsom, who was too abrupt for the ladies of Castledene, had watched with the greatest and most untiring care over the fragile life of that little child. He had exerted his utmost skill in order to save it.
I am going now to Italy, and most probably shall remain there until the earl, my father, grows better, or the end comes. When I return to England, my first care shall be to forward your views and prospects in life; until then I want you to take charge of my child." Stephen Letsom looked up, with something like a smile. "I shall be a rough nurse," he observed.
I am going abroad, but I leave Dr. Letsom as the guardian of the child; apply to him for everything you want, as you will not be able to communicate with me." He watched her as she took the child in her arms. He was satisfied when he saw the light that came into her face: he knew that little Madaline would be well cared for. He placed a bank note for fifty pounds in the woman's hands.
"I had better tell you at once that she will not be able to leave Castledene for a time all thought of continuing the journey must be abandoned." "But she is in no danger?" cried the traveler, and Stephen Letsom saw an agony of suspense in his face. "No, she is not in danger; but she requires and must have both rest and care." "She shall have anything, if Heaven will only spare her.
Letsom, "and she shall have her drive." Margaret promised. When the time came she took the little one, dressed in her pretty white frock; and as they sat in the drawing-room, the doctor was brought home to his house dead. It was such a simple yet terrible accident that had killed him. A poor man had been injured by a kick from a horse.
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