Blind -- Fiction; Guardian and ward -- Fiction; Love stories; Marriage -- Fiction; Mental illness -- Fiction
"Oh, wouldn't that be jolly," cried Edith, using her favorite
expression, "I'd read to you, and sing to you, only Rachel says my
songs are weird-like, and queer, and maybe you might not like
them; but I'd fix your hair, and lead you in the smooth places
where you wouldn't jam your heels;" and she glanced ruefully at
one of hers, bound up in a cotton rag. "I wish I could come, but
Mrs. Atherton won't let me, I know. She threatens most every day
to send me back to the Asylum, 'cause I act so. I'm her little
waiting-maid, Edith Hastings."
"Waiting maid!" and the tone of Richard's voice was indicative of
keen disappointment.
The Harringtons were very proud, and Richard would once have
scoffed at the idea of being particularly interested in one so far
below him as a waiting-maid. He had never thought of this as a
possibility, and the child beside him was NOT of quite so much
consequence as she had been before. Still he would know something
of her history, and he asked her where she lived, and why she had
brought him so many flowers.
"I live with Mrs. Atherton," she replied. "She sent the flowers,
and if you'll never tell as long as you live and breathe, I'll
tell you what Rachel says. Rachel's an old colored woman, who used
to be a nigger down South, but she's free now, and says Mrs.
Atherton loves you. I guess she does, for she fainted most away
that day I went home and told her you were blind."
"Mrs. Atherton!" and Richard's face grew suddenly dark. "Who is
Mrs. Atherton, child?"
"Oh-h-h!" laughed Edith deprecatingly; "don't you know her? She's
Grace Atherton--the biggest lady in town; sleeps in linen sheets
and pillow cases every night, and washes in a bath-tub every
morning."
"Grace Atherton!" and Edith quailed beneath the fiery glance bent
upon her by those black sightless eyes. "Did Grace Atherton send
these flowers to me?" and the bright-hued blossoms dropped
instantly from his hand.
"Yes, sir, she did. What makes you tear so? Are you in a tantrum?"
said Edith, as he sprang to his feet and began unsteadily to pace
the summer-house.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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