Extravagant Living CHAPTER 5.
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"Mrs. Sly," exclaimed Lofton, turning quickly from his desk, on hearing his name uttered.
He had but a short time before reached the store in which he was employed.
The old woman dressed for the street, in a faded Scotch plaid cloak and a rusty, plain black mode bonnet, stood before him with a troubled expression on her hard features.
"Ellen Birch is very ill, sir!" The voice of the woman was subdued in tone, and indicative of no little anxiety.
"Very ill! What ails her?" asked Lofton hurriedly and in alarm.
"I don't know, I'm sure, Mr. Lofton. But she's been going on very strangely all night. I think she's somewhat out of her head. And she's got an awful high fever."
"Has the doctor seen her?" inquired the young man.
"No, sir. I — I — didn't like to — I don't have any doctor of my own."
"But why didn't you call in Dr. Baker at once?"
"Well, I — I thought I'd see you first," stammered the old woman.
"Is anyone with her now?"
"No, sir. She's a little quiet, and I thought I'd run down and tell you."
"Go back then, quickly," said Lofton, impatiently. "I'll be there with the doctor in a few minutes!"
The old woman turned away, but, before she had reached the door, Lofton passed her at a rapid speed. Fortunately, he reached the office of Dr. Baker just in time to see him before he went out on his morning round of visits. The doctor accompanied him to the house of Mrs. Sly, which they reached before the old woman's arrival. Ellen still slept; or, as Mrs. Sly had said, was quiet. Her eyes were closed; there was a marked, rather painful contraction of forehead and her lips, unnaturally compressed, had now and then a slight nervous movement.
Doctor Baker, who had attended Ellen during her recent illness, stood gazing at her wan, suffering countenance, for some moments, without speaking. Then, with a shake of the head, he sat down beside her and laid his fingers on her pulse. As he did so, the sick girl opened her eyes, fixed them first on the doctor, then upon the face of her lover, and then let them wander, as if searching for someone else about the room. At this moment, Mrs. Sly came in. Instantly a look of fear darkened the countenance of Ellen, and she shrank closer down in the bed. Both the doctor and Lofton noticed the sudden change. It needed not the few incoherent sentences that fell from her lips, to tell them that the mind of the poor girl wandered.
The only information Dr. Baker could get from Mrs. Sly, bearing on the case, was that Ellen had awakened her in the night, by overturning a chair, and that on going to her, she had found her wandering about the room, and talking to herself in a strange way. The straight-forward relation by Lofton, of what had occurred on the evening before, and his impression that Ellen had gone to work much too early since her illness, afforded the doctor sufficient data to understand the condition of his patient.
Such prescription as the emergency required being ordered, the doctor said in a low voice to Lofton:
"This case is an exceedingly critical one, and by no means to be trusted in the hands of this woman. A faithful nurse is as much needed as a skillful physician. And good nursing this sick girl will not receive here — at least not at the hands of Mrs. Sly. Has she no friend or relative who would take care of her during her illness?"
"She has no relative," replied Lofton.
"Then it would be better to have her removed to the Infirmary, than trust her here."
"Oh no," said the young man quickly. "That need not be. I will have her placed in the hands of one who will be as kind to her as a mother. But can she be safely removed?"
"Yes — provided it be done as soon as possible today. This fever will exhaust her rapidly. Tomorrow, it might be attended with extreme peril."
"I will have her removed within an hour," said Lofton.
"Will you see her again this afternoon?"
"I had better do so. Where will I find her?"
"I will call on you at two o'clock in your office, and give the right direction."
"Mrs. Sly," he added, turning to the old woman, and speaking aloud. "I wish you to have Ellen's clothes, and all that belongs to her, packed in her trunks. In less than an hour I will be here in a carriage for the purpose of taking her away."
"Mr. Lofton!" The old woman was about to remonstrate, when the doctor said —
"I have ordered the removal, Mrs. Sly, and it must take place immediately."
"But is it safe, doctor? Isn't she too ill?"
"She is too ill to remain here, madam," replied the doctor, fixing a stern look on the old woman, who did not misunderstand the meaning of his words.
Soon after, Lofton and the physician left the house together.
On Mulberry Street, some distance beyond Pearl Street, and then quite in the suburbs of the city, stood a small two-storied brick house, a little back from, and with its gable end to, the street. It was a half-house, so called. In front was a neat flower-garden, enclosed by white palings, the diamond shaped tops painted green. Everything in and around this house bore the stamp of neatness. The front door opened directly into a small parlor, furnished very plainly. On the floor was a rag carpet, woven into regular stripes of black, red and yellow, which, crossing each other at intervals, produced a nice effect. A bureau, a mahogany breakfast-table, on which lay an old family Bible, six green Windsor chairs, a small mantel looking-glass, a pair of brightly polished andirons, shovel and tongs, and a pair of brass candlesticks, made up the furniture of this room.
In the chamber directly over the parlor, sat a woman whose countenance showed her to be past the prime of life. She was engaged in sewing, not on a garment for herself, but on work for which she was to be paid a price — for Mrs. Wilson, although she owned the comfortable house in which she lived, had no income beyond what her industry secured. The opening of the gate caused her to lift her head and look from the window.
"Mr. Lofton! I declare!" said she, both pleasure and surprise in her tones. And she laid aside her work quickly and went downstairs, in time to open the door for him before his hand had lifted the little brass knocker that was polished to the extreme of brightness.
"Good morning, Archie. How Did you do? Come in. I'm right glad to see you! But what's the matter? You look sick or in trouble."
"I am in trouble," replied the young man, as he seated himself in Mrs. Wilson's little parlor. "Ellen is sick again."
"Why, Archie! I'm sorry to hear that. Is she very sick?"
"Yes. Dangerously so, Dr. Baker says." The young man's voice choked. In a moment he recovered himself, and added, "She went to work a great deal too soon, and now she is in a relapse. Her mind has been wandering all night."
"Archie!"
"I've come to see you about her," said Lofton.
"Well, Archie, anything in my power to do for Ellen, shall be done. You know I have always liked her. She's a good and true-hearted girl."
"The doctor says she's too ill to be trusted with Mrs. Sly."
"It never was a good place for her," replied Mrs. Wilson. "Mrs. Sly is not the right kind of a woman. If she is so ill again, she ought to be removed, by all means."
"The doctor has suggested the Infirmary; but indeed, Mrs. Wilson, I cannot bear the thought of that."
Mrs. Wilson shook her head.
"Won't you let her be brought here?" said Lofton, almost imploringly. "Oh, if you would, it might be the means of saving her life! I will pay you more for nursing her, than you can earn with your needle. Oh, my good friend, forgive me for asking so much; and do not deny my request."
"It was already on my lips to make the offer," said the kind lady, smiling yet with dimming eyes.
"What a mountain you have taken from my heart!" ejaculated Lofton, seizing the hand of Mrs. Wilson.
Of all that passed between them, we need not pause to speak. Mrs. Wilson immediately accompanied Lofton and assisted in the removal of the sick girl to her own house.
"Is everything that belongs to Ellen in these trunks," inquired Lofton, when some time afterwards he returned with a porter to have them taken away.
"Yes, as far as I know. But — "
"But what?" asked Lofton, seeing hesitation and perplexity on the countenance of Mrs. Sly.
"She owes me twelve dollars for board, and if I let them go — where is my security? She'll die, maybe, and then who am I to look to for my money?"
"Wretch!" was the involuntary and indignant exclamation of Lofton. "And it was for this, that you threatened to send her to the poor-house ha? But — " and he took out his pocket-book — "Here's your money. Not a word!" he added sternly, as the instantly changed woman began some cringing apology. "There is your own — take it! And now Stephen," speaking to the porter, "take these to the house of Mrs. Wilson, in Mulberry Street. You know where it is."
Remaining long enough to see the trunks fairly in the porter's possession, Lofton then returned to the store, from which he had been absent over two hours.
"Where have you been, Archibald?" one of his employers inquired, as soon as the young man re-appeared. Absence, during business hours, was a thing not permitted in the establishment, unless for causes beyond ordinary occurrence. Knowing this, Lofton felt that justice to himself, required a clear statement of his reason for being away. His employer listened with a good deal of interest, and when he had concluded, asked the name of the person in whom his clerk had been so much interested. On hearing it, he said —
"Ellen Birch. Isn't she a dress-maker?"
"She is," replied Lofton.
"Oh, I remember her very well now. She has worked for my family, off and on, during the last few years. And is she so very ill?"
"Yes, sir; Dr. Baker considers the case exceedingly critical."
"I'm really pained to hear it, Archibald. She's an excellent girl. My wife and daughters are much attached to her, and will be grieved to hear of her sickness. Where did you say she had been removed?"
"To Mrs. Wilson's, in Mulberry Street, a little beyond Pearl Street."
"I'll remember that. Some of my family will see her immediately, and do all they can for her comfort. Dr. Baker is attending her?"
"Yes, sir."
"She couldn't be in better hands. How long have you known her, Archibald?"
"A long time, sir."
"And, excuse my freedom, are no doubt under an engagement of marriage with her."
"It is true, sir."
<p align="justify">"A wise choice, my young friend. She will make you an excellent wife. Don't let her illness trouble you too much. A good physician and good nursing will, I am sure, soon bring all right again. You have my full permission to be absent, while she remains so very sick, as often as may be needful."
Briefly but earnestly, Lofton expressed his grateful thanks for this kind interest on the part of his employer, and once more resumed his daily tasks.
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