At half-past four this
scene was repeated, and then she decided to act.
"Ring up the telegraph-office, Ruth; I am going to send a despatch."
"Why, Mamma, probably the mail is delayed; it always is in winter.
Besides, you will only frighten Father."
"Nonsense; two days is a long delay without the excuse of a blockade. Go
to the telephone, please."
"The telephone was broken yesterday, you know."
"I had forgotten. Well, one of the girls must go; I can't stand it any
longer."
"You can't send any of the girls in such weather; both the maids have
terrible colds, and Mary would not go if you asked her. Listen! It is
frightful. I promise to go in the morning if we don't get a letter, but we
probably shall. Let us play checkers for a while." With a forced stoicism
she essayed to distract her mother's thoughts, but with poor success. The
wretched afternoon drew to a close; and immediately after a show of dining,
Mrs. Levice went to bed. At Ruth's suggestion she took some headache
medicine.
"It will make me sleep, perhaps; and that will be better than worrying
awake and unable to do anything."
The opiate soon had its effect; and with a sigh of relief Ruth heard her
mother's regular breathing. It was now her turn to suffer openly the
fox-wounds.
Pages:
229
230
231
232
233
234
235
236
237
238
239
240
241
242
243
244
245
246
247
248
249
250
251
252
253