"She seemed to think she could render no assistance; and, fearing
that all would be over before we could get here, preferred my coming
at once and writing to her of his condition. Ah! she is miserably
fitted for such scenes as you must have witnessed." And the gray-
haired man sighed heavily.
"What! can she bear to commit her husband to other hands at such a
crisis as this? How can she live away from his side when every hour
may be his last? Oh, is she indeed so utterly, utterly heartless,
selfish, callous? Poor Eugene! Better find release from such a union
in death than go through life bound to a wife so unblushingly
indifferent!"
Her face was one flash of scorn and indignation, and, extending her
hand toward the restless invalid, she continued in a lower tone: "She has deserted her sacred post; but a truer, better friend, one
who has always loved him as a brother, will supply her place. All
that a sister's care can do, assuredly he shall have."
"You are very kind, Miss Beulah; my family are under lasting
obligations to you for your generous attentions to that poor boy of
ours, and I--"
"No. You understand little of the nature of our friendship. We were
orphan children, warmly attached to each other, before you took him
to a home of wealth and lavish indulgence. Were he my own brother, I
could not feel more deeply interested in his welfare, and while he
requires care and nursing I consider it my privilege to watch over
and guard him. There is Dr. Asbury in the hall; he can tell you
better than I of his probable recovery," Ah, reader, is "Friendship but a name?
A charm that lulls to Bleep,
A shade that follows wealth or fame,
And leaves the wretch to weep?"
Mr. Graham remained at the cottage, and, having written to
Antoinette of the imminent danger in which he found her husband,
urged her to lose no time in joining him. Unluckily, he was ignorant
of all the information which is so essential in the occupation of
nursing. He was anxious to do everything in his power; but, like the
majority of persons on such occasions, failed wretchedly in his
attempts. Almost as restless and nervous as the sick man, he only
increased the difficulties he would fain have remedied, and Beulah
finally prevailed upon him to abandon his efforts and leave the
room, where his constant movements annoyed and irritated the
sufferer. Eugene recognized no one, but his eyes followed Beulah
continually; and when his delirium was at its height only her voice
and clasp of his hand could in any degree soothe him. In his ravings
she noticed two constantly conflicting emotions: a stern bitterness
of feeling toward his wife and an almost adoring fondness for his
infant child. Of the latter he talked incessantly, and vowed that
she, at least, should love him. As the weary days crept by Beulah
started at every sound, fancying that the wife had certainly come;
but hour after hour found only Mrs. Williams and the orphan guarding
the deserted husband. Gradually the fever abated, and a death-like
stupor succeeded. Mr. Graham stole about the house like a haunting
spirit, miserable and useless, and in the solemn stillness of
midnight only Beulah sat by the pillow, where a head now rested
motionless as that of a corpse. Mrs. Williams was asleep on a couch
at the opposite end of the room, and, in the dim, spectral light of
the shaded lamp, the watcher and her charge looked unearthly. Faint
from constant vigils, Beulah threw her arm on the bed and leaned her
head upon it, keeping her eyes on the colorless face before her. Who
that has watched over friends, hovering upon the borders of the
spiritland, needs to be told how dreary was the heart of the
solitary nurse? And to those who have not thus suffered and endured,
no description would adequately portray the desolation and gloom.