Sara, a Princess: The Story of a Noble Girl - Part 34
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Part 34

The child nodded.

"Got a sunstroke, I guess," and Sara hurried on to the designated door.

She knocked lightly, then opened it and entered. It was a bare little room, with one window, but decently clean, and the sash was entirely removed, being replaced by a mosquito-netting tacked to the frame, so the air was not foul. On the old bed in the corner lay the young girl, white and still, and beside her sat an elderly woman with a kind, weather-beaten visage, who looked up inquiringly.

"I am Sara Olmstead, a King's daughter," touching the cross on her breast; "can I do anything for you?"

"I'm glad you've come," said the woman; "I've did what I could, but I've got to go to my work now. I'm meat cook in a restaurant, and I must git there by four; it's 'most that now; can you stay?"

"Yes," said Sara. "Please tell me all about her, the symptoms, and so on. Was it a sunstroke?"

"Might be--set down, Miss, you look tuckered out yourself," handing the one splint-bottomed rocker. "I don't know much more'n you. They picked her up down on the corner this morning and brought her into the hall,-- thought 'twas a fit, I guess. I come in while they was all tearin'

around like a pa.s.sel of geese, and when they didn't seem any place for her lower down, told 'em they might bring her to my room. I'm about the only one that rooms alone, I guess."

"And hasn't she spoken at all?"

"Yes, she come to and told us her name, but that's about all. She grew flighty pretty soon; and now she either lies still and breathes hard, like you see her now, or mutters suthin', I can't make out what. If you need any help, Mis' Maloney's a good, kind woman, three doors to the left; she'll come in a minute, 'less the old man's drunk and she has to stay to watch the children; and here's her medicines. I got the health doctor right away, Dr. Browne. Was it him sent you?"

"I presume he reported the case to our circle, and they sent me word.

You said a spoonful every half hour?"

"Yes; and if she gets so't she really senses things, she might want suthin' to eat. You'll find tea and bread in this cupboard, see? and I bile the water on this oil stove."

Sarah nodded wearily; she was feeling a strange la.s.situde from which it was difficult to rouse herself. The woman noticed her pallor.

"You don't look strong yourself, Miss, and I hate to leave you, but I guess there won't be much to do. If we don't have a big run at the restaurant,--and we won't, it's so hot--I'll git back by seven sure; and don't mind calling on Mis' Maloney, she's as clever as the day is long.

Well, good-by to you," and she was gone.

Sarah looked about her with some curiosity, noting the bare edges of the floor around the faded strip of cheap carpeting in the centre, the little stand with a white towel over the top, upon which was a lamp and a Bible,--she was glad to see the Bible--the woodcuts from ill.u.s.trated journals tacked to the walls, and the one straggling geranium in a tin can on the window sill, then examined more closely the girl on the bed.

She was extremely pale, and there were blue shadows about her nose and temples; but the brows were delicately pencilled, the lashes lying against the colorless cheek, thick and long, while the hair, of a brown so light as to be almost yellow, curled naturally around her forehead.

"She is really pretty," thought Sara, "but how thin and blue. And what mere claws her hands are!" looking at the one clutching a corner of the sheet. "Poor girl! I don't believe she is much older than I, but she looks as if she had suffered enough for an old woman. Ah! she's speaking."

The lips were moving, but at first no sound came from them; then she caught one word, "mother," and then a tear rolled from the closed eyes over the white cheeks.

Sara gently wiped it away, thinking pitifully, "Where can her mother be?" and while the thought was impressed upon her face in a look of tenderness and pity, the eyes of the young girl opened wide and gazed into her own.

"Who are--you?" she asked faintly. "An angel?"

Sara smiled.

"No, only a girl like yourself."

"Then I am--not dead?"

"No, indeed: you have been ill, but are better now. Here is something for you to take," placing a spoon to her lips.

The invalid swallowed the liquid docilely, never taking her large hazel eyes from Sara's face.

"Who are you? Where am I?" she asked again.

"I am Sara Olmstead, a King's daughter, come to stay with you this afternoon; and you are in a good woman's room, who is now gone to her work."

The eyes closed again, and an expression of pain or regret pa.s.sed over the face.

"Do you suffer?" asked Sara gently.

The head was shaken slightly.

"Not in body, but I'm almost sorry it wasn't true."

"What, Bertha?"

"My first thought, that it was all over, and you were the angel appointed to waken me in the other world."

The tone, weak almost to whispering, was infinitely sad, and Sarah thrilled with sympathy. That one so young should long for death seemed incredible to her hardy nature. But nothing more was said till, bethinking herself, Sara asked,--

"Could you eat anything now?"

The eyes opened quickly.

"Yes," she said eagerly, "yes."

Sara hurried to light the little stove and make the tea, managing also to brown a slice of bread over the flame. She looked for milk and b.u.t.ter, but found none.

"There is only sugar for your tea," she began.

"Never mind," said the eager voice again, "let me have it. Oh, how good it smells!"

Sara brought the plain little repast to the bedside, and, rising to her elbow, the young girl partook with an eagerness that was pitiful.

"Poor thing!" thought Sara, "I do believe she was starved!" then aloud, "If you can hold the cup, I'll make you some more toast; shall I?"

"Yes, please!" in a stronger voice, "I never tasted anything so good!"

While she was eating the second piece, Sara took a pencil and small notebook from her satin bag and scribbling a line, stepped hastily down the hall to the third door. It was opened by the same little girl who had first directed her.

"Is this Mrs. Maloney's room?" asked Sara.

"Yes'm."

"And you are her little girl?"

"Yes'm."

"Could I get you to do an errand for me?"