"Very much injured--die--how is this?--I knew nothing of it--I haven't been
here before this week."
Esther hereupon briefly related the misfortunes that had befallen her
father.
"Dear me--dear me," repeated the kind old doctor.
"There, my dear; don't fret--he'll get better, my child--I'll take him in
hand at once. My dear Mrs. Ellis, weeping won't do the least good, and only
make you sick yourself. Stop, do now--I'll go and see him immediately, and
as soon as possible you shall be admitted."
They had not long to wait before a message came from Doctor Burdett,
informing them that they could now be permitted to see the sufferer.
"You must control yourselves," said the doctor to the sobbing women, as he
met them at the door; "you mustn't do anything to agitate him--his
situation is extremely critical."
The girls and their mother followed him to the bedside of Mr. Ellis, who,
ghastly pale, lay before them, apparently unconscious.
Mrs. Ellis gave but one look at her husband, and, with a faint cry, sank
fainting upon the floor. The noise partially aroused him; he turned his
head, and, after an apparent effort, recognized his daughters standing
beside him: he made a feeble attempt to raise his mutilated hands, and
murmured faintly, "You've come at last!" then closing his eyes, he dropped
his arms, as if exhausted by the effort.
Pages:
326
327
328
329
330
331
332
333
334
335
336
337
338
339
340
341
342
343
344
345
346
347
348
349
350