Family Pride; Or, Purified by SufferingHolmes, Mary Jane
General
Family Pride; Or, Purified by Suffering
Holmes, Mary Jane
American fiction; Dime novels
Eagerly Katy seized upon that idea, thinking more of the sign, the
water, than the name, which scarcely occupied her thoughts at all. It
did not matter what the child was called, so that it became one of the
little ones in glory, and with a calmer, quieter demeanor than she had
shown that day she saw Morris depart at a late hour; and then turning to
the child which Uncle Ephraim now was holding, kissed it lovingly,
whispering as she did so: "Baby shall be baptized--baby shall have the
sign."
CHAPTER XXXII.
LITTLE GENEVRA.
Morris had telegraphed to New York, receiving in reply that Wilford was
hourly expected home, and would at once hasten on to Silverton. The
clergyman, Mr. Kelly, had also been seen, but owing to a funeral which
would take him out of town, he could not be at the farmhouse until five
in the afternoon, when, if the child still lived, he would be glad to
officiate as requested. All this Morris had communicated to Katy, who
listened in a kind of stupor, gasping for breath, when she heard that
Wilford would so soon be there, and moaning "that will be too late,"
when told that the baptism could not take place till night. Then,
kneeling by the crib where the child was lying, she fastened her great,
sad blue eyes upon the pallid face with an earnestness as if thus she
would hold till nightfall the life flickering so faintly and seeming so
nearly finished. The wailings had ceased, and they no longer carried it
within their arms, but had placed it in its crib, where it lay perfectly
still, save as its eyes occasionally unclosed and turned wistfully
toward the cups, where it knew was something which quenched its raging
thirst. Once, indeed, as the hours crept on to noon and Katy bent over
it so that her curls swept its face, it seemed to know her, and the
little wasted hand was for a moment uplifted and rested on her cheek
with the same caressing motion it had been wont to use in health. Then
hope whispered that it might live, and with a great cry of joy Katy
sobbed: "She knows me, Morris--mother, see; she knows me. Maybe she will
live."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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