Beulah - Page 17/348

"Well, I will do the best I can. I do not mind work, but then Lilly-

-" Her head went down on her arms once more.

"Yes, dear, I know it is very hard for you to part with her; but

remember, it is for her good. Mr. Grayson is very wealthy, and of

course Lilly and Claudy will have--"

"And what is money to my--" Again she paused abruptly.

"Ah, child, you do not begin to know! Money is everything in this

world to some people, and more than the next to other poor souls.

Well, well, I hope it will prove for the best as far as you are

concerned. It is early yet, but maybe you had better go to bed, as

you are obliged to leave in the morning."

"I could not sleep."

"God will help you, dear child, if you try to do your duty. All of

us have sorrows, and if yours have begun early, they may not last

long. Poor little thing, I shall always remember you in my prayers."

She kissed her gently, and left her, hoping that solitude would

soothe her spirits. Miss White's words rang in the girl's ears like

a knell. "She will soon be perfectly satisfied away from you."

Would she? Could that idolized sister learn to do without her, and

love her new friends as fondly as the untiring one who had cradled

her in her arms for six long years? A foreboding dread hissed

continually, "Do you suppose the wealthy and fashionable Mrs.

Grayson, who lives in that elegant house on ---- street, will suffer

her adopted daughter to associate intimately with a hired nurse?"

Again the light streamed into the room. She buried her face deeper

in her apron.

"Beulah," said a troubled, anxious voice.

"Oh, Eugene!" She sprang up with a dry sob, and threw herself into

his arms.

"I know it all, dear Beulah; but come down to Mrs. Williams' room;

there is a bright fire there, and your hands are as cold as ice. You

will make yourself sick sitting here without even a shawl around

you." He led her downstairs to the room occupied by the matron, who

kindly took her work to the dining room, and left them to talk

unrestrainedly.

"Sit down in this rocking-chair and warm your hands."

He seated himself near her, and as the firelight glowed on the faces

of both, they contrasted strangely. One was classical and full of

youthful beauty, the other wan, haggard, and sorrow-stained. He

looked about sixteen, and promised to become a strikingly handsome

man, while the proportions of his polished brow indicated more than

ordinary intellectual endowments. He watched his companion

earnestly, sadly, and, leaning forward, took one of her hands.