Mistress and Maid: A Household StoryCraik, Dinah Maria Mulock
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Mistress and Maid: A Household Story
Craik, Dinah Maria Mulock
England -- Fiction; Household employees -- Fiction; Master and servant -- Fiction
"Where is her husband? Has she no relations--no mother or sisters?"
asked the fashionable physician, Sir ---- ----, touched by the slight
or this poor lady dying alone, with only a nurse and a servant about
her. "If she has, they ought to be sent for immediately."
Elizabeth ran down stairs, and rousing the old butler from his bed,
prevailed on him to start immediately in the carriage to bring back
Miss Leaf and Miss Hilary. It would be midnight before he reached
Richmond; still it must be done.
"I'll do it, my girl," said he, kindly; "and I'll tell them as gently
as I can. Never fear."
When Elizabeth returned to her mistress's room the doctors were all
gone, and nurse, standing at the foot of Mrs. Ascott's bed, was
watching her with the serious look which even a hireling or a
stranger wears in the presence of that sight which, however familiar,
never grows less awful--a fellow creature slowly passing from this
life into the life unknown. Elizabeth crept up to the other side. The
change, indescribable yet unmistakable, which comes over a human face
when the warrant for its dissolution has gone forth, struck her at
once. Never yet had Elizabeth seen death. Her father's she did not
remember, and among her few friends and connections none other had
occurred. At twenty-three years of age she was still ignorant of that
solemn experience which every woman must go through some time, often
many times during her life. For it is to women that all look in their
extreme hour. Very few men, even the tenderest hearted, are able to
watch by the last struggle and close the eyes of the dying.
For the moment, as she glanced round the darkened room, and then at
the still figure on the bed, Elizabeth's courage failed. Strong love
might have overcome this fear--the natural recoil of youth and life
from coming into contact with death and mortality; but love was not
exactly the bond between her and Mrs. Ascott. It was rather duty,
pity, the tenderness that would have sprung up in her heart toward
any body she had watched and tended so long.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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