Beulah - Page 140/348

She was awakened by the cool pattering of raindrops, which beat

through the shutters and fell upon her face. She sprang up with a

thrill of delight and looked out. A leaden sky lowered over the

city, and as the torrents came down in whitening sheets, the thunder

rolled continuously overhead, and trailing wreaths of smoke from the

dying fires drooped like banners over the roofs of the houses. Not

the shower which gathered and fell around seagirt Carmel was more

gratefully received.

"Thank God! it rains!" cried Beulah, and, turning toward Clara, she

saw with pain that the sufferer was all unconscious of the tardy

blessing. She kissed the hot, dry brow; but no token of recognition

greeted her anxious gaze. The fever was at its height; the delicate

features were strangely sharpened and distorted. Save the sound of

her labored breathing, the room was silent, and, sinking on her

knees, Beulah prayed earnestly that the gentle sufferer might be

spared. As she rose her guardian entered, and she started at the

haggard, wasted, harassed look of the noble face, which she had not

observed before. He bent down and coaxed Clara to take a spoonful of

medicine, and Beulah asked earnestly: "Have you been ill, sir?"

"No."

He did not even glance at her. The affectionate cordiality of the

hour of meeting had utterly vanished. He looked as cold, stern, and

impenetrable as some half-buried sphinx of the desert.

"Have you seen the others this morning?" said she, making a strong

effort to conceal the chagrin this revulsion of feeling occasioned.

"Yes; Mrs. Hoyt will get well."

"Does she know of her child's death?"

"Yes."

"You are not going, surely?" she continued, as he took his hat and

glanced at his watch.

"I am needed elsewhere. Only nursing can now avail here. You know

very well what is requisite. Either Dr. Asbury or I will be here

again to-night to sit up with this gentle girl."

"You need neither of you come to sit up with her. I will do that

myself. I shall not sleep another moment until I know that she is

better."

"Very well." He left the room immediately.

"How he cases his volcanic nature in ice!" thought Beulah, sinking

into the armchair. "Last night he seemed so kind, so cordial, so

much my friend and guardian! To-day there is a mighty barrier, as

though he stood on some towering crag and talked to me across an

infinite gulf! Well, well, even an Arctic night passes away; and I

can afford to wait till his humor changes."