At Last - Page 139/170

The shadow of death drew on apace to the sight of all, save the

consumptive, and her semi-imbecile mother. These seemed alike blind

to the fatal symptoms that were more strongly defined with every

passing day.

The paralytic sat in her wheeled chair, in the March

sunshine, at the window of her chamber, and talked droningly of

other times and paltry pleasures to that one of her daughters or

grand-children whose turn it was to minister to her comfort and

amusement, and insisted upon having all the neighborhood news

repeated in her dull ear with wearisome--to the

narrator--amplifications and reiterations, shaking with childish

laughter at the humorous passages, and whimpering at the pathetic.

Rosa cheated time of heaviness by unceasing demands upon her

attendants for service and diversion. Unable to sleep, except at

long intervals, in snatches of fitful dozing, she had a horror of

being alone for an instant, from dusk until dawn; was ingenious in

contrivances to surprise an unwary watcher nodding upon her post;

plenteous and plaintive in lamentations, if the device succeeded.

Fifty times a night her pillows must be shaken, her drink, food, or

medicine given, and after each of these offices had been performed,

occurred the petition: "Now--sit where I can see you whenever I open my eyes! It drives me

crazy to imagine for a moment that I am by myself. I want to be sure

all the while that some living human being is near at hand. I have

such frightful dreams! I awake always with the impression that I am

drowning or suffocating, or floating away into a sea of darkness

alone!"

With the light of day, her spirits revived, and her hopes of speedy

recovery.

"You need not grudge waiting upon me now, for I shall be up and

about shortly--well and spry as the best of you!" she would say.

"And while I am playing invalid, I mean to have my quantum of

attention. I have been avaricious of devotion all my life, and this

is a golden chance that may never happen again."

Her husband she would not willingly suffer to leave her for an

instant. But for Mrs. Sutton's management and kindly authority, he

would have been condemned to take his meals at her bedside and from

the same tray with herself. She would be removed from the bed to the

lounge by no other arms than his, and at any hour of the twenty-four

he was liable to be called upon to read, sing, or talk her into

composure. Variable as ever in mood and fancy, and more capricious

in the exhibition of these, she was fond, sullen, teasing, and

mirthful with him as the humor of the moment dictated; sometimes

assailing him with reproaches for his indifference and want of

regard for her wishes and tastes, now that she was no longer young,

pretty, and sprightly; at others, clinging to him with protestations

of repentance and love, bewailing her waywardness and imploring his

forbearance; then, taking him to task for the slightest

inadvertence--the spilling of a drop of her medicine or jarring of

her sofa or bed; anon lauding him to the skies as the most skilful

nurse she had, and enjoining upon all about her to render verbal

testimonial to his irreproachableness as husband and man--oh! it was

a wearisome, oftentimes a revolting duty to listen to and bear with

it all--keep in mind though one did that the intolerable

restlessness preluded centuries of dreamless repose.