Confession - Page 158/274

I know not how I reached my dwelling, but when there I was soon

brought to a sober condition of the senses. I found everything in

commotion. Mrs. Delaney, late Clifford, was there, busy in my wife's

chamber, while her husband, surly with such an interruption to his

domestic felicity, even at the threshold, was below, kicking his

heels in solemn disquietude in the parlor. The servants had been

despatched to bring her and to seek me, in the first moments of

my wife's danger. She had consciousness enough for that, and Mrs.

Delaney had summoned the physician. He too--the excellent old man,

who had assisted us in our clandestine marriage--he too was there;

sad, troubled, and regarding me with looks of apprehension and rebuke

which seemed to ask why I was abroad at that late hour, leaving my

wife under such circumstances. I could not meet his glance with a

manly eye. They brought me the dead infant--poor atom of mortality--no

longer mortal; but I turned away from the spectacle. I dared not

look upon it. It was the form of a perished hope, ended in a dream!

And such a dream! The physician gave me a brief explanation of the

condition of things.

"Your wife is very ill. It is difficult to say what will happen.

Make up your mind for the worst. She has fever--has been delirious.

But she sleeps now under the effect of some medicine I have given

her. She will not sleep long; and everything will depend upon her

wakening. She must be kept very quiet."

I asked if he could conjecture what should bring about such an

event. "Though delicate, Julia was not out of health. She had been

well during the evening when I left her."

"You have left her long. This is a late hour, Mr. Clifford, for

a young husband to be out. Nothing but matter of necessity could

excuse--"

I interrupted him with some gravity:-"Suppose then it was a matter of necessity--of seeming necessity,

at least."

He observed my emotion.

"Do not be angry with me. I assisted your dear wife into the world,

Clifford. I would not see her hurried out of it. She is like a

child of my own; I feel for her as such."

I said something apologetic, I know not what, and renewed my

question.

"She has been alarmed or excited, perhaps; possibly has fallen

while ascending the stair. A very slight accident will sometimes

suffice to produce such a result with a constitution such as hers.

She needs great watchfulness, Clifford; close attention, much

solicitude. She needs and deserves it, Clifford."

I saw that the old man suspected me of indifference and neglect. Alas!

whatever might be my faults in reference to my wife, indifference

was not among them. What he had said, however, smote me to the

heart. I felt like a culprit. I dared not meet his eye when, at

daylight, he took his departure, promising to return in a few hours.