When Marian reached her mother's door, and was just about entering,
she stopped short, arrested by a low dull moaning sound which fell
upon her ear. She listened with her blood curdling within her and her
lips growing cold and rigid. Still it came, that low hollow moan,
monotonous, dreadful. Then she opened the door, and, passing swiftly
in, saw her mother lying tossing on the bed, plucking furtively at the
bedclothes, and moaning as she moved her head wearily in its unrest.
"Mother!" cried Marian--"mother, darling mother don't you know me?"
And she flung herself on the bed, and, taking the old woman's head in
her arms, softly kissed her lips.
The bright, the momentarily bright, eyes looked at her without seeing
her--she knew that--and presently moved away again round the room, as
Mrs. Ashurst raised her long lean hand, and, pointing to the wall,
said, "Pictures--and books--all fine--all fine!--for my sake!"
uttering the last words in a deep hissing whisper.
Marian was too shocked to speak. Shocked, not frightened; she had much
natural strength of mind, and had had experience of illness, though
not of this character. But she was shocked to see her mother in such a
state, and deeply enraged at the fact that the increase of the illness
had been kept from her. "Don't you know me?" she repeated; "mother,
darling mother, don't you know me? Marian, poor Marian! your daughter
Marian!"
"Ah, don't blame her!" said the old woman, in the same whisper. "Poor
Marian! poor dear Marian! my Jimmy's pet! She did it for my sake, all
for my sake! Carriages and horses and wine for me--wine, rich strong
wine for me--all for me, all for my sake, poor Marian! all for my
sake!"
"Is she often in this way? Does she often repeat those horrible
words?" asked Marian of the servant, of whose presence she then, on
raising her head, became for the first time aware.
"Oh yes, miss--I mean, mum!--constantly, mum! She never says anything
else, mum, but about some things being for her sake, mum. And she
haven't said anything else, miss, since she was off her head--I mean,
since she was delirrous, mum!"
"Does she always mention my name--Marian?"
"Always, mum, 'Poor Marian'--savin' your presence, and not meanin' a
liberty--is what she do say, miss, and always about 'for her sake'
it's
done, whatever it is, which I don't know."
"How long has she been like this? How long have you been with her?"
"A week last Wednesday, mum, was when I was brought from the laundry
to be nurse; and if you find your collars and cuffs iron-moulded, mum,
or not properly got up, you'll understand it's not me, Dr. Osbin
having had me fetched here as bein' strong for nussin' and a good
sitter-up o' nights----"
"Yes, I understand!" said Marian, vacantly; "you won't have to sit up
any more; I shall relieve you of that. Just wait here; I shall be back
in a few minutes."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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