when she grew feverish and delirious I asked the doctor to come. She had congestion of the lungs, he said.
This was a serious illness-by no means one of the winter colds. I shut the school and gave myself up to nursing her.
These were some of the most unhappy days I had yet known. To see her lying there, propped up with pillows, her skin hot and dry, her eyes glazed, watching me with those too-bright eyes, filled me with misery.
The terrible realization had come to me that her chances of recovery were not great.
“Dearest Mama,” I cried, ‘tell me what to do. I will do anything .
anything . if only you will get better. “
“Is that you, Minella?” she whispered. I knelt by the bed and took her hand.
“I am here, my dearest. I have not left you since you have been ill. I shall always be with you …”
“Minella, I am going to your father. I dreamed of him last night. He was standing at the prow of his ship and holding out his hands to me.
I said to him, “I’m coming to you.” Then he smiled and beckoned. I said: “I have to leave our little girl behind,” and he answered: “She will be well taken care of. You know she will.” Then a great peace came to me and I knew all would come right. “
“Nothing can be right if you are not here.”
“Oh yes, my love. You have your life. He is a good man. I have dreamed of it often …” Her voice was scarcely audible.
“He’s kind … like his father … He’ll be good to you. And you’ll fit. Never doubt it. You’re as good as any of them. No, better … Remember that, my child …”
“Oh my darling, I only want you to get well. Nothing else matters.”
She shook her head.
“The time comes for us all, Minella. Mine is now.
But I can go . happy . because he’s there. “
“Listen,” I insisted.
“You’re going to get well. We’ll close the school for a month. We’ll go away together … just the two of us.
We’ll raid the dower chest. “
Her lips twitched. She shook her head.
“Well spent,” she murmured.
“It was money well spent.”
“Don’t talk, dearest. Save your breath.”
She nodded and smiled at me with such a wealth of love in her eyes that I could scarcely restrain my tears.
She closed her eyes and after a while began to murmur under her breath.
I leaned forward to listen.
“Worthwhile,” she whispered.
“My girl .. why not? … she’s as good as any of them … fitting that she should take her place among them. What I always wanted. Like an answer to a prayer … Thank you, God. I can go happy now …”
I sat by the bed, understanding full well her thoughts, which were as they had been since my father’s death all for me. She was dying. I knew that, and I could find no comfort in de45
ceiving myself. But she was happy because she believed that Joel Derringham was in love with me and would ask me to marry him.
Oh beloved, foolish mother! How unworldly she was! Even I, who had lived my sheltered life, was more aware of how the world acted than she was. Or perhaps she was blinded by love. She saw her daughter as a swan among geese . demanding to be singled out for attention.
There was only one thing for which I could be thankful. She died happy believing that my future was secure. She was buried in Derringham churchyard on a bitter December day-two weeks before Christmas. Standing in the cold wind, listening to the clods of earth falling on her coffin, I was completely overcome by my desolation. To represent him. Sir John had sent his butler a very dignified man held in great esteem by all those who worked for the Derringhams. Mrs. Callan, the housekeeper, also came. There were one or two other mourners from the estate, but I was aware of little but my grief.
I saw Joel as we left the churchyard. He was standing by ‘, the gate, his hat in his hand. He did not speak. He just took my hand and held it for a moment. I withdrew it. I could not , bear to talk to anyone.
All I wanted was to be
This was a serious illness-by no means one of the winter colds. I shut the school and gave myself up to nursing her.
These were some of the most unhappy days I had yet known. To see her lying there, propped up with pillows, her skin hot and dry, her eyes glazed, watching me with those too-bright eyes, filled me with misery.
The terrible realization had come to me that her chances of recovery were not great.
“Dearest Mama,” I cried, ‘tell me what to do. I will do anything .
anything . if only you will get better. “
“Is that you, Minella?” she whispered. I knelt by the bed and took her hand.
“I am here, my dearest. I have not left you since you have been ill. I shall always be with you …”
“Minella, I am going to your father. I dreamed of him last night. He was standing at the prow of his ship and holding out his hands to me.
I said to him, “I’m coming to you.” Then he smiled and beckoned. I said: “I have to leave our little girl behind,” and he answered: “She will be well taken care of. You know she will.” Then a great peace came to me and I knew all would come right. “
“Nothing can be right if you are not here.”
“Oh yes, my love. You have your life. He is a good man. I have dreamed of it often …” Her voice was scarcely audible.
“He’s kind … like his father … He’ll be good to you. And you’ll fit. Never doubt it. You’re as good as any of them. No, better … Remember that, my child …”
“Oh my darling, I only want you to get well. Nothing else matters.”
She shook her head.
“The time comes for us all, Minella. Mine is now.
But I can go . happy . because he’s there. “
“Listen,” I insisted.
“You’re going to get well. We’ll close the school for a month. We’ll go away together … just the two of us.
We’ll raid the dower chest. “
Her lips twitched. She shook her head.
“Well spent,” she murmured.
“It was money well spent.”
“Don’t talk, dearest. Save your breath.”
She nodded and smiled at me with such a wealth of love in her eyes that I could scarcely restrain my tears.
She closed her eyes and after a while began to murmur under her breath.
I leaned forward to listen.
“Worthwhile,” she whispered.
“My girl .. why not? … she’s as good as any of them … fitting that she should take her place among them. What I always wanted. Like an answer to a prayer … Thank you, God. I can go happy now …”
I sat by the bed, understanding full well her thoughts, which were as they had been since my father’s death all for me. She was dying. I knew that, and I could find no comfort in de45
ceiving myself. But she was happy because she believed that Joel Derringham was in love with me and would ask me to marry him.
Oh beloved, foolish mother! How unworldly she was! Even I, who had lived my sheltered life, was more aware of how the world acted than she was. Or perhaps she was blinded by love. She saw her daughter as a swan among geese . demanding to be singled out for attention.
There was only one thing for which I could be thankful. She died happy believing that my future was secure. She was buried in Derringham churchyard on a bitter December day-two weeks before Christmas. Standing in the cold wind, listening to the clods of earth falling on her coffin, I was completely overcome by my desolation. To represent him. Sir John had sent his butler a very dignified man held in great esteem by all those who worked for the Derringhams. Mrs. Callan, the housekeeper, also came. There were one or two other mourners from the estate, but I was aware of little but my grief.
I saw Joel as we left the churchyard. He was standing by ‘, the gate, his hat in his hand. He did not speak. He just took my hand and held it for a moment. I withdrew it. I could not , bear to talk to anyone.
All I wanted was to be
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