The Trial; Or, More Links of the Daisy ChainYonge, Charlotte M. (Charlotte Mary)
General
The Trial; Or, More Links of the Daisy Chain
Yonge, Charlotte M. (Charlotte Mary)
Domestic fiction; England -- Fiction; English fiction -- 19th century; Trials (Murder) -- Fiction
'Yes, you could; this is quite a dress; besides, one can move so much
more quietly without crinoline.'
'I didn't think of that;' and she stood up, and unfastened her hooks.
'Perhaps Dr. May would let me go back now!' as a mountain of mohair and
scarlet petticoat remained on the floor, upborne by an over-grown steel
mouse-trap.
'Perhaps he will by and by; but he said you must sleep first.'
'Sleep--I can't sleep. There's no one but me. I couldn't sleep.'
'Then at least let me try to freshen you up. There. You don't know
what good it used to do my sister Blanche, for me to brush her hair. I
like it.'
And Mary obtained a dreamy soothed submission, so that she almost
thought she was brushing her victim to sleep in her chair, before the
maid came up with the viands that Dr. May had ordered.
'I can't eat that,' said Averil, with almost disgust. 'Take it away.'
'Please don't,' said Mary. 'Is that the way you use me, Miss Ward,
when I come to drink tea with you?'
'Oh, I beg your pardon,' was the mechanical answer.
Mary having made the long hair glossy once more, into a huge braid, and
knotted it up, came forth, and insisted that they were to be
comfortable over their grilled chickens' legs. She was obliged to make
her own welcome, and entertain her hostess; and strenuously she worked,
letting the dry lips imbibe a cup of tea, before she attempted the
solids; then coaxing and commanding, she gained her point, and
succeeded in causing a fair amount of provisions to be swallowed; after
which Averil seemed more inclined to linger in enjoyment of the
liquids, as though the feverish restlessness were giving place to a
sense of fatigue and need of repose.
'This is all wrong,' said she, with a faint bewildered smile, as Mary
filled up her cup for her. 'I ought to be treating you as guest, Miss
May.'
'Oh, don't call me Miss May! Call me Mary. Think me a sister. You
know I have known something of like trouble, only I was younger, and I
had my sisters.'
'I do not seem to have felt anything yet,' said Averil, passing her
hands over her face. 'I seem to be made of stone.'
'You have done: and that is better than feeling.'
'Done! and how miserably! Oh, the difference it might have made, if I
had been a better nurse!'
'Papa and Dr. Spencer both say you have been a wonderful nurse,
considering--' the last word came out before Mary was aware.
'Oh, Dr. May has been so kind and so patient with me, I shall never
forget it. Even when I scalded his fingers with bringing him that
boiling water--but I always do wrong when he is there--and now he won't
let me go back to Leonard.'
'But, Averil, the best nurse in the world can't hold out for ever.
People must sleep, and make themselves fit to go on.'
'Not when there is only one:' and she gasped.
'All the more reason, when there is but one. Perhaps it is because you
are tired out that you get nervous and agitated. You will be quite
different after a rest.'
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account