[Ill.u.s.tration]

CHAPTER XI.

DARKENING DAYS.

In the night Gladys was awakened by her uncle's voice sharply calling her name, and when she hastened to him she found him in great pain, and breathing with the utmost difficulty. Her presence of mind did not desert her. She had often seen her father in a similar state, and knew exactly what to do. In a few minutes she had a blazing fire, and the kettle on; then she ran to awaken Walter, so that he might go for the doctor. The simple remedies experience had taught the girl considerably eased the old man, and when the doctor came he found him breathing more freely. But his face was quite grave after his examination was made.

'I suppose my hour's come?' said Abel Graham in a matter-of-fact way. 'I don't think much of your fraternity,--I've never had many dealings with you,--but I suppose you can tell a man what he generally knows himself, that he'll soon be in grips with death?'

The doctor looked at him with an odd smile. He was a young man, fighting his way up against fierce compet.i.tion--an honest, straightforward fellow, who knew and loved his work.

'You don't think highly of us, Mr. Graham, but I daresay we have our uses. This young lady appears to be an accomplished nurse; she has done the very best possible under the circ.u.mstances.'

He turned to Gladys, not seeking to hide his surprise at finding such a fair young creature amid such surroundings. Walter Hepburn, standing in the background, experienced a strange sensation when he saw that look.

Though he knew it not, it was his first jealous pang.

'I had to nurse my father often in such attacks,' Gladys answered, with her quiet, dignified calm. 'If there is anything more I can do, pray tell me, and I will follow your instructions faithfully.'

'There is not much we can do in such a case. I never heard anything so foolhardy as to go off, as you say he did yesterday, driving through the open country for hours on a March day. I don't think a man who takes such liberties with himself can expect to escape the penalty, Mr.

Graham.'

'Well, well, it doesn't matter. If my hour's come, it's come, I suppose, and that's the end of it,' he retorted irritably. 'How long will I last?'

'Years, perhaps, with care--after this attack is conquered,' replied the doctor; and the old man answered with a grim, sardonic smile.

'We'll see whether you or I am right,' he replied. 'You needn't stay any longer just now.'

Gladys took the candle, and herself showed the doctor to the outer door.

'Will he really recover, do you think?' she asked, when they were out of hearing.

'He may, but only with care. The lungs are much congested, and his reserve of strength is small. What relation is he to you, may I ask?

Your grandfather?'

'No; my uncle?'

'And do you live here always?'

'Yes, this is my home,' Gladys answered, and she could scarcely forbear a smile at the expression on the young doctor's face.

'Indeed! and you are contented? You seem so,' he said, lingering at the door a moment longer than he need have done.

'Oh yes; I have a great deal to be thankful for,' she answered. 'You will come again to-morrow early, will you not?'

'Certainly. Good-morning. Take care of yourself. You do not look as if your reserve of strength were very great either.'

'Oh, I am very strong, I a.s.sure you,' Gladys answered, with a smile; and as she looked into his open, honest face, she could not help thinking what a pleasant face it was.

Then she went back to keep her vigil by the sick-bed, and to exercise her woman's prerogative to ease and minister to pain. There was so little any one could do now, however, to help Abel Graham, the issue of his case being in the hand of G.o.d. In obedience to the request of Gladys, Walter went back to bed, and she sat on by the fire, thoroughly awake, and watchful to be of the slightest use to her uncle. He did not talk much, but he appeared to watch Gladys, and to be full of thoughts concerning her.

'Do you remember that night I came, after your father died?' he asked once.

'Yes,' she answered in a low voice. 'I remember it well.'

'You felt bitter and hard against me, did you not?'

'If I did, Uncle Abel, it has long pa.s.sed,' she answered. 'There is no good to be got recalling what is past.'

'Perhaps not; but, my girl, when a man comes to his dying bed it is the past he harks back on, trying to get some comfort out of it for the future he dreads, and failing always.'

'It is not your dying bed, Uncle Abel, I hope; you are not so old yet,'

she said cheerfully.

'No, I'm not old in years--not sixty--but old enough to regret my youth,' he said. 'Are you still of the same mind about the spending of money, if you should ever have it to spend?'

'Yes; but it is so unlikely, Uncle Abel, that I shall ever have any money to spend. It is quite easy saying what we can do in imaginary circ.u.mstances. Reality is always different, and more difficult to deal with.'

'You are very wise for your years. How many are they?'

'Seventeen and three months.'

'Ay, well, you look your age and more. You'd pa.s.s for twenty, but no wonder; and'--

'I wish you would not talk so much, uncle; it will excite and exhaust you,' she said, in gentle remonstrance.

'I must talk, if my time is short. Suppose I'm taken, what will you do with yourself, eh?'

'The way will open up for me, I do not doubt; there must be a corner for me somewhere,' she said bravely; nevertheless, her young cheek blanched, and she shivered slightly as she glanced round the place--poor enough, perhaps, but which at least afforded her a peaceful and comfortable home. These signs were not unnoticed by the dying man, and a faint, slow, melancholy smile gathered about his haggard mouth.

'You believe, I suppose, that the Lord will provide for you?' he said grimly.

'Yes, I do.'

'Does He never fail, eh?'

'Never. He does not always provide just as we expect or desire, but provision is made all the same,' answered the girl, and her eyes shone with a steadfast light.

'It's a very comfortable doctrine, but not practicable, nor, to my thinking, honest. Do you mean to say that it is right to sit down with folded hands waiting for the Lord to provide, and living off other people at the same time?'

Gladys smiled.

'No, that is not right, but wrong, very wrong, and punishment always follows. Heaven helps those who help themselves; don't you remember that?'

'Ay, well, I don't understand your theology, I confess. But we may as well think it out. What do you suppose will become of me after I shuffle off, eh?'