For Woman's Love Part- 2 by Mrs. E. D. E. N. Southworth (i love reading books txt) 📕

"I Hope You Are Better,  Sir," He Said.

"I Don't Know," Said The Injured Man,  In A Faint Voice.

"How Are The Works Getting On?"

"Famously,  Sir! Splendidly! Pray Do Not Feel The Least Anxiety On That

Score."

"Where Is Clarence?"

"At North End,  Sir. Of Course,  He Would Not Think Of Leaving The Works

While Both You And Myself Are Absent."

"I Don't Know," Sighed The Weary Invalid,  For The Third Time. "But You

Had Better Not,  Either Of You,  Attempt To Deceive Me While I Am Lying

Here On My Back."

"Not For The World,  My Dear Father! Pray Do Not Be Doubtful Or Anxious.

We Are Your Dutiful Sons,  Sir,  And Our First--"

"Rubbish!" Exclaimed The Broken Iron King. "That Will Do! Go Send Rose

To Me. Why The Deuce Did She Leave? I--I--I--" His Voice Dropped Into An

Inarticulate Murmur.

Mr. Fabian Bent Over Him,  And Saw That He Had Dozed Off To Sleep.

"Dat's De Way He's Been A-Goin' On Ebber Since De Doctor Lef'. It's De

Truck Wot De Doctor Give Him," Said Old Martha.

Fabian Stole On Tiptoe Out Of The Room. Dinner Was Waiting For Him Down

Stairs. He Would Not Deliver His Father's Selfish Message To Rose,

Because He Wished The Poor Creature To Dine In Peace. He Told Clarence

To Give Her His Arm To The Dining Room.

While They Were All At Dinner Violet Explained To Her Husband Why Mr.

Rockharrt Had Directed Her To Return Home. Poor Violet Was Very Loth To

Stir Up Any Ill Feeling Between The Father And Son; But She Need Not

Have Feared. Mr. Fabian Understood The Autocrat Too Well To Take Offense

At The Dismissal Of His Wife.

The Next Morning When The Family Physician Arrived,  And Visited The

Injured Man,  He Found Him Suffering From Restlessness And A Rising

Fever.

He Reported This Condition To Mr. Clarence Rockharrt,  Left Very

Particular Directions For The Treatment Of The Patient,  And Then Took

Leave,  With The Promise To Return In The Evening And Remain All Night.

Later In The Afternoon The Doctor,  Having Finished All Other

Professional Calls For The Day,  Arrived At Rockhold. He Found His

Patient Delirious. He Took Up His Post By The Sick Bed For The Night,

And Then Peremptorily Sent Off The Worn-Out Watcher,  Rose,  To The Rest

She So Much Needed.

The Condition Of Aaron Rockharrt Was Very Critical. Irritative Fever Had

Set In With Great Violence,  And This Was The Beginning Of The Hard

Struggle For Life That Lasted Many Days,  During Which Delirium,  Stupor,

And Brief Lucid Intervals Followed Each Other With The Rise And Fall Of

The Fever. A Professional Nurse Was Engaged To Attend Him; But The Real

Burden Of The Nursing Fell On Rose.

Rose Never Lost Patience. She Stayed By The Bedside Always Until The

Doctor Turned Her Out Of The Room. She Came Back The Moment She Was

Called,  Night Or Day.

Weeks Passed And Mr. Rockharrt Grew Better And Stronger,  But Rose Grew

Worse And Weaker. The Fine Autumn Weather That Braced Up The

Convalescent Old Man Chilled And Depressed The Consumptive Young Woman.

It Was Certain That Mr. Rockharrt Would Entirely Regain His Health And

Strength,  And Even Take Out A New Lease Of Life.

"I Never Saw Any One Like Your Grandfather In All My Long Practice,"

Said The Doctor To Cora One Morning,  After He Had Left His Patient; "He

Is A Wonder To Me. Nothing But A Catastrophe Could Ever Have Laid Him On

An Invalid Bed; And No Other Man That I Know Could Have Recovered From

Such Injuries As He Has Sustained. Why In A Month From This Time He Will

Be As Well As Ever. He Has A Constitution Of Tremendous Strength."

"But The Poor Wife," Said Cora.

"Ah,  Poor Soul!" Sighed The Doctor.

"And Yet A Little While Ago She Seemed Such A Perfect Picture Of

Health."

"My Dear,  Wherever You See That Abnormally Clear,  Fresh,

Semi-Transparent Complexion,  Be Sure It Is A Bad Sign--A Sign Of

Unsoundness Within."

"Can Nothing Be Done For Rose?"

"Yes; And I Am Doing It As Much As She Will Let Me. I Advise A Warmer

Climate For The Coming Winter. Mr. Rockharrt Will Be Able To Travel By

The First Of November,  And He Should Then Take Her To Florida. But,  You

See,  He Pooh-Poohs The Whole Suggestion. Well--'A Willful Man Must Have

His Way,'" Said The Doctor,  As He Took Up His Hat And Bade The Lady

Good-By.

A Week After This Conversation,  On The Day On Which Aaron Rockharrt

First Sat Up In His Easy Chair,  Rose Had Her First Hemorrhage From The

Lungs. It Laid Her On The Bed From Which She Was Never To Rise.

Cora Became Her Constant And Tender Nurse. Rose Was Subdued And Patient.

A Few Days After This She Said To The Lady:

"It Seems To Me That My Own Dear Father,  Who Has Been Absent From My

Thoughts For So Many Years,  Has Drawn Very Near His Poor Child In These

Last Few Months,  And Nearer Still In The Last Few Days. I Do Not See

Him,  Nor Hear Him,  Nor Feel Him By Any Natural Sense,  But I Do Perceive

Him. I Do Perceive That He Is Trying To Do Me Good,  And That He Is Glad

I Am Coming To Him So Soon. I Am Sorry For All The Wrong I Have Done,

And I Hope The Lord Will Forgive Me. But How Can I Expect Him To Do It,

When I Can Scarcely Forgive--Even Now On My Dying Bed I Can Scarcely

Forgive--My Step-Mother And Her Husband For The Neglect And Cruelty That

Wrecked My Life? Oh,  But I Forget. You Know Nothing Of All This."

Cora Did Know. Fabian Had Told Her; But He Had Also Exacted A Promise Of

Secrecy From Her; So She Said Nothing In Reply To This.

Rose Continued,  Speaking In A Low,  Meditative Tone:

"Yes; I Am Sorry,  Sorry For The Evil I Have Done. It Was Not Worth While

To Do It. Life Is Too Short--Too Short Even At Its Longest. But,  Oh! I

Had Such A Passionate Ambition For Recognition By The Great World! For

The Admiration Of Society! Every One Whom I Met In Our Quiet Lives Told

Me,  Either By Words Or Looks,  That I Was Beautiful--Very Beautiful--And

I Believed Them; And I Longed For Wealth And Rank,  For Dress And Jewels,

To Set Off This Beauty,  And For Ease And Luxury To Enjoy Life. Oh,  What

Vanity! Oh,  What Selfishness! And Here I Am,  With The Grave Yawning To

Swallow Me Up," She Murmured,  Drearily.

"No,  Dear; No," Said Cora,  Gently Laying Her Hand On The Blue-White

Forehead Of The Fading Woman. "No,  Rose. No Grave Opens For Any Human

Being; But Only For The Body That The Freed Human Being Has Left Behind.

It Is Not The Grave That Opens For You,  Rose,  But Your Father's Arms.

Would You Like To See A Minister,  Dear?"

"If Mr. Rockharrt Does Not Object."

"Then You Shall See One."

Rose's Sick Room Was On The Opposite Side Of The Hall From Mr.

Rockharrt's Convalescent Apartment.

If The Iron King Felt Any Sorrow At His Young Wife's Mortal Illness,  He

Did Not Show It. If He Felt Any Compunction For Having Taxed Her

Strength To Its Extremity,  He Did Not Express It. He Maintained His

Usual Stolid Manner,  And Merely Issued General Orders That No Trouble Or

Expense Must Be Spared In Her Treatment And In Her Interest. He Came

Into Her Room Every Day,  Leaning On The Arm Of His Servant,  To Ask Her

How She Felt,  And To Sit A Few Minutes By Her Bed.

Violet Could No Longer Come To Rockhold,  Because A Little Violet Bud,

Only A Few Days Old,  Kept Her A Close Prisoner At The Banks. But Mr.

Fabian Came Twice A Week. The Minister From The Mission Church At North

End Came Very Frequently,  And As He Was An Earnest,  Fervent Christian,

His Ministrations Were Most Beneficial To Rose.

On The Day That Mr. Rockharrt First Rode Out,  The End Came,  Rather

Suddenly At The Last.

There Was No One In The House But Cora And The Servants,  Mr. Clarence

Having Gone Back To North End. Cora Had Left Rose In The Care Of Old

Martha,  And Had Come Down Stairs To Write A Letter To Her Brother. She

Had Scarcely Written A Page When The Door Was Opened By Martha,  Who

Said,  In A Frightened Tone:

"Come,  Miss Cora--Come Quick! There's A Bad Change. I'm 'Feard To Leave

Her A Minute,  Even To Call You. Please Come Quick!"

Both Went To The Bedside Of The Dying Woman,  Over Whose Face The Dark

Shadows Of Death Were Creeping. Rose Could No Longer Raise Her Hand To

Beckon Or Raise Her Voice To Call,  But She Fixed Her Eyes Imploringly On

Cora,  Who Bent Low To Catch Any Words She Might Wish To Say. She Was

Gasping For Breath As In Broken Tones She Whispered:

"Cora--The Lord--Has Given Me--Grace--To Forgive Them. Write To--My

Step-Mother. Fabian--Will Tell You--Where--"

"Yes; I Will,  I Will,  Dear Rose," Said Cora,  Gazing Down Through

Blinding Tears,  As She Stooped And Pressed Her Warm Lips On The

Death-Cold Lips Beneath Them.

Rose Lifted Her Failing Eyes To Cora's Sympathetic Face And Never Moved

Them More; There They Became Fixed.

The Sound Of Approaching Wheels Was Heard.

"It Is My Grandfather. Go And Tell Him," Whispered Cora To Old Martha

Without Turning Her Head.

The Woman Left The Room,  And In A Few Moments Mr. Rockharrt Entered It,