The Young Wife CHAPTER 17.
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"How is Florence now?" asked Mr. Lawton, in a tone of concern which showed that he had been thinking about her during the afternoon with some feelings of anxiety.
"She seems to me a good deal worse," Mrs. Lawton said. "She is asleep now, but breathes heavily, and her skin is very dry and hot."
"Has she complained of any particular sensation of uneasiness or pain?"
"Yes. She says that her head aches, and that her throat is very sore."
"Then I think it best that I should go for the doctor at once."
"So do I; for I'm really afraid that it is the scarlet fever," Mrs. Lawton said, turning pale as she gave utterance to the name of a disease, the thought of which makes every mother's heart tremble and sink in her bosom.
"I hope not, indeed!" her husband replied, as he turned hastily away to go for the physician.
When he returned, he found that Florence had awakened from the brief slumber into which she had fallen. She complained of a general uneasiness, with flushes of heat running over the whole body, sore throat, and headache. Her skin was red, dry, and hot. All these symptoms produced in the minds of her parents great uneasiness, and they waited the arrival of the physician with increasing anxiety. He came about nine o'clock that evening, and carefully examined into the condition of his patient.
"Has she been exposed to the measles?" he asked, after he had observed the entire group of symptoms.
"Not to our knowledge," was the reply. "Do you think that it is nothing more than the measles, doctor?" Mrs. Lawton asked, in an anxious tone.
"I hope not, madam," was the answer.
A few simple directions were given by the physician, who promised to call early on the next morning, and then he went away, leaving the hearts of the parents heavier with anxiety, than they were when he came in. That, "I hope not," with the peculiar tone in which it was uttered, haunted both their minds, in spite of all their efforts to forget it.
In the morning when the doctor came in, he found all the symptoms aggravated. The skin of his patient was dry and burning; her respiration hurried and difficult, interrupted by frequent sighs; her tonsils swollen and inflamed, and the swallowing, even of saliva, attended with soreness and pain. All this was accompanied by a hurried circulation of the blood. And to add to the alarming symptoms, her head was so much affected, that there was an evident tendency to delirium. There was now no mistaking it for a case of scarlet fever, in one of its most dangerous forms. This fact he at once communicated to the parents, with the announcement, that the life of their child depended upon their strict attention to all his prescriptions and directions.
And now the inconveniences and difficulties of their position, as occupants of a boardinghouse, were perceived in a new aspect, and felt with painful acuteness. Confined to one part of the house, they had no means of removing the two younger children beyond the atmosphere which Florence breathed, and were thus compelled to leave them exposed to the dangers of contagion. Instead, too, of the large, airy chambers which their own house had afforded, an arrangement so indispensable in sickness, they were cooped up, as it were, in two very small bed-rooms, one but little larger than a closet, and containing no window. The season, too, had advanced, and they were now amid the first warm, sultry, oppressive days of summer. To make this condition of things in some way tolerable, they removed the bed upon which Florence lay, out into the more roomy parlor. Still, this was but a slight alleviation of all the difficulties that presented themselves, the worst of which was, the necessity of keeping James and Henry, now two years old, in such immediate contact with the disease.
To prevent, if possible, the ill effects of this exposure, the doctor administered to the two children who were not affected with the disease, several drops of the extract of belladonna, daily, after the manner of the German physicians.
About the fourth day, the condition of Florence was pitiable indeed. Her throat was almost black with ulcerations; and the whole surface of her body was red and swollen, resembling a vast inflammation, with here and there purple spots, especially on the neck and face. She seemed to possess little consciousness, except pain and uneasiness.
The case was one of such extreme malignancy, that scarcely any of the boarders dared venture into Mrs. Lawton's rooms, for fear of contagion. Had it not been for her mother'sassistance in relieving her from incessant watchings and attentions, her own health would doubtless have given way. But, situated as they were, it was difficult to afford anything like a comfortable arrangement for Julia's mother to remain over night, the very time when she felt most need of her attentions. It was in vain that Mr. Lawton applied for the use of another chamber for himself; it could not be had. Every one was taken up. The house was full. And so, through the hot days and sultry nights, all were compelled to remain in their allotted portion of the house.
"Doctor, is there any hope?" asked Mrs. Lawton of the physician, on the sixth day of the disease, her countenance expressing the most intense and painful anxiety. She had asked this question often before, and as often had it been evaded, with the remark, "Where there is life — there is hope."
"There is hope, madam," the physician replied, looking up from his little patient, over whom he had been bending for the last five minutes, with an anxiety only exceeded by that of her parents.
The tone in which those few words were uttered, was not to be mistaken. Mrs. Lawton's heart trembled for a few moments; then covering her face with her hands, she leaned forward against the bed, near which she was standing. There was no sound of weeping, but the tears trickled through her fingers, and fell fast upon the pillow that supported the head of her dear child.
"And yet there is much to fear, Mrs. Lawton," the physician added, after the pause of a few moments. "All the skill I possess, and all the care you have to bestow, will be required, for the re-active power of nature will be feeble indeed."
And so it proved; for full two days, Florence lay in a condition so low, that hope almost failed in the hearts of the parents. Then there was an evident healthy re-action of the whole system, which steadily and slowly progressed, until she was pronounced out of danger.
But, alas! the joy that trembled in the hearts of the parents and friends, was of but brief duration. On the same day that Florence sat up, a little while, for the first time, in her bed — little Henry was observed to droop about. In alarm, the physician was again sent for, who was concerned to find all the premonitory symptoms precisely resembling those which were exhibited when he was called in to see Florence. And now the heart of poor Mrs. Lawton sank like a weight in her bosom. Wearied and exhausted by ten days and nights of confinement, watching, and anxiety, the tone of her mind was gone, and she gave way, for a time, to utter despondency. From this, however, she was soon roused by the condition of her child, which required every thought and care in her power to bestow.
Nearly two days passed without the physician being able to determine the nature of the disease — two days of intense and painful anxiety to the parents — though, in his own mind, there was little hope of its being anything of a milder character than scarlet fever.
"Do you think it the scarlet fever, doctor?" asked Mrs. Lawton, for the fourth or fifth time, in an anxious tone.
"I hope not, Mrs. Lawton."
"O, I am afraid that it is, doctor. He was taken just like Florence, and every symptom now resembles those which she had."
"That is true, madam. And yet it may not be the scarlet fever."
"What else can it be, doctor?"
"It may be nothing but measles, Mrs. Lawton."
"But he hasn't been exposed to them at all."
"And yet, it often happens that children take the measles, or whooping cough, without the parents being at all able to learn in what way they have been exposed to it. Hope for the best, Mrs. Lawton. I always do."
"But here there seems little hope," was the desponding reply. "There has been scarlet fever here, but no measles."
The force of that reply silenced the physician, for he felt it, and the effect was to diminish the hope he had himself entertained that possibly the child's sickness might be nothing more than the early stage of measles.
"Tomorrow will determine all," he said, as he rose to depart; "and, in the meantime, be careful not to let him be exposed to draughts of air."
The next twenty-four hours were passed, by Mrs. Lawton and her husband, in a state of painful suspense and anxiety. Neither of them slept over an hour or two during the night; and, indeed, they had now no accommodation for comfortable repose. The little dark chamber was so close and warm, that neither of the sick children could sleep there. The bed in their own chamber was occupied by Florence, and now that which had been made up in the parlor had to be appropriated to the use of little Harry. On a part of this, one of the parents reposed for an hour or so while the other sat up, to attend to the two sick children, and thus they relieved each other through the warm and sultry night, during which all the windows in both rooms had to be tightly closed to prevent Henry or Florence from taking cold.
In the morning, the fever of the child was much increased, and his skin was almost as red as scarlet. When the mother examined him by the light of day, and saw his condition, she burst into tears, and burying her face in the pillow, sobbed aloud.
"Do not give up to your feelings so, Julia," Mr. Lawton said, tenderly, while his own voice trembled. "Let us still hope for the best."
"I have no hope," was Mrs. Lawton's response, as she raised her head. "What else can it be but scarlet fever? And you know that the dear little fellow is one of the most delicateof our children. He will never live through it."
"But let us wait, in some degree of hope, until the doctor comes in. You know that he seemed to think it might be nothing more than measles."
"I have no confidence in the hope he endeavored to inspire. Has not the child been exposed for nearly ten days, to the atmosphere in which his sister breathed? What else can it be then, but that dreadful disease? How wrong it was in us, dear husband, not to have sent both him and James to their grandmother's. All this would have been prevented!"
"Perhaps so, Julia. But we cannot tell. What we did was for the best; and now let us be satisfied in that consciousness, while we endeavor to do all we can for our dear little ones."
It was about nine o'clock when the physician came in. Since daylight, Mr. and Mrs. Lawton had waited for him in trembling anxiety. He came into the room, and sat down by the bedside in silence. And all remained breathlessly still for more than five minutes, during which time he carefully and minutely examined every apparent symptom. These minutes seemed to the parents prolonged almost to hours. Their hearts beat oppressively, and they almost held their breaths for the first word of hope or fear that might be uttered. At last the doctor raised himself up, from the examination, with a long, deep expiration.
"It is measles!" he said, in a tone of confidence not to be mistaken.
"O doctor! are you sure?" Mrs. Lawton exclaimed, seizing hold of his arm, and looking into his face with a mingled expression of hope, confidence, and fear.
"Yes, ma'am, I am fully satisfied. The eruption on the skin has assumed the true form and appearance, and there is little or no soreness or inflammation of the throat or tonsils. Still, you know, that even in measles, great attention is requisite to prevent the patient's taking cold, and so you must not abate a single attention."
Tears gushed from the eyes of the mother, and she sank into a chair, overcome by emotions of joy that were too powerful to be controlled.
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