The Boy Artist Part 4

"Oh, yes, about the picture," said Mr. Smith, taking it up; but at this moment he was interrupted; the servant announced a visitor, and he had only time to add, "I will tell you about the picture the next time you come, little Madge; good-bye;" and then she had to go away.

Back through the dreary streets, to that dreary home; back to that garret room, to that lonely watching, to that brother who lay so near the borders of the grave, though Madge knew it not. How often we pa.s.s in the crowded thoroughfare some sad suffering hearts, hurrying back to scenes such as these; it may be that they touch us in the crowd, and yet we know nothing of the burden which they carry; G.o.d help them! Let us thank him if we have light hearts ourselves; and let us remember that each load that we lighten leaves one less sad face and heavy heart in the world about us.

[Ill.u.s.tration]

CHAPTER IV.

THE FRIEND.

A week pa.s.sed, and Mr. Smith saw nothing more of Madge. Raymond had become worse, and she never left him.

It was Sat.u.r.day evening, about five o'clock, when Mrs. Smiley was called up from the kitchen by hearing that a gentleman wanted to speak to her.

She came up, smoothing down her ap.r.o.n with her hands, which were not of the cleanest.

"Do two children of the name of Leicester live here?"

"Yes, sir, surely; at least there were two of 'em a couple of hours ago, but I can't rightly say whether the lad's alive yet."

"What! is he so ill, then?"

"Ay, ay, sir, ill enough, I warrant."

"I will go up to them."

"Very well, sir; I'm sure if you're a friend that'll do something for them, I'm right glad to see you, for they sorely need one."

Mr. Smith, for it was he, followed Polly's guidance to Raymond's room, then thanking her, he knocked at the door himself, and entered.

Madge was leaning over the sick boy, holding a gla.s.s of water to his lips; and as she looked round, Mr. Smith thought he had never seen a face so strangely and sadly altered as hers. It had lost nearly all its childishness--it looked so old, and womanly, with a weight of care in it that was pitiable to see; and yet, with all this, it was so calm and still, so composed, that any one would have imagined that her one thought was how to nurse her patient. And so it was. Madge felt that a great deal depended upon her fort.i.tude and self-control. Had she lost this, she could not have attended upon Raymond; and though she was only a weak little girl in herself, G.o.d gave her the strength she needed. She did not spend her time in idly fretting, or in gloomy thoughts about the future; she just did the duties that came in her way, one by one, and left the rest trustfully to G.o.d.

One glance was sufficient to show Mr. Smith how ill the boy was. The wildness of the fever was past, and he had sunk into a state of almost complete lethargy.

"Madge," said the artist, "I came to see why you had not come again to me."

Madge only pointed to Raymond's sharpened features resting on the pillow; it was excuse enough.

"He is very ill," said Mr. Smith. "I never saw any one looking more ill."

"Mrs. Smiley says he is dying," said Madge in a low tone of forced calm; and she repeated the last words sadly to herself, "dying, O Raymond!"

"When was the doctor here?"

"We have had no doctor, sir."

"Why not? That has not been wise, Madge."

[Ill.u.s.tration: THE ARTIST'S VISIT.]

"We could not afford it, sir."

"There was the parish doctor."

"I knew nothing about him, sir; and I had n.o.body to tell me."

"Poor child, poor child!" and the artist was feeling the boy's pulse.

Raymond opened his eyes, and seeing a man by his side, said faintly, "I've failed, father--I'll go to the shop--it's not done!"

"Hush, hush, my boy; we must not talk now." And then Mr. Smith beckoned Madge into the next room. She followed him silently, and for a moment or two her new friend stood looking into her pale, troubled face. Then he laid his hand on her head, and there were tears in his eyes as he spoke.

"I have a little daughter at home, Madge, who is about your age; and if she were in trouble--;" suddenly his voice faltered, and he added hurriedly, "may G.o.d grant that my Lilian may never be left as you are."

Madge lifted her eyes to his face, then clasping his hand, she said, "Oh, sir, save Raymond; I will love you always, if you will save him.

Oh, do not let him die!"

"Keep up your brave little heart; I will do my best. Madge, if your brother lives, he will some day be a great artist."

Again that glad, joyful light came into Madge's eyes, which the artist had seen there once before. "I know it! I know it!" she cried. "Did you like the picture, sir?"

"Yes, my child. I saw unmistakable signs of genius in it. I am buying it myself, little Madge; will you receive the purchase-money?"

"No, no; wait till Raymond can have it himself. He must live!--he will, he will!"

"Hush, my child; there is One above who only knows about that; he must do as seemeth to him best. Now, Madge, go back to him; I will go and get a friend of mine to come and see him."

Madge did as he bid her; and in about an hour Mr. Smith returned with a doctor.

He looked very grave when he had examined his patient, and then beckoned Mr. Smith away.

"I have very little hope of him," he said sorrowfully; "the prostration of strength is fearful; I fear he will never rally; but he must have stimulants now, and plenty of nourishment;--we must do what we can."

"Yes," said Mr. Smith warmly; "and if you save him, Morton, you will have saved one who will be a great man some day. That boy has an artist's soul within him; he will rise to fame."

"I should like to save him for the sake of that little patient maiden who is watching him. What a touching face the child has, and how she seemed to be hanging on every look of mine!"

"Poor little Madge, she loves him better than herself."

For a few days, Raymond hung between life and death; then Dr. Morton's face looked even graver than before. Madge saw that he had no hope.

On Sunday evening, she was sitting beside her brother, watching the fluttering breath, which seemed every instant as if it must cease altogether; when suddenly Raymond opened his eyes. "Madge."

"Yes, dear."

"I've been asleep a long time, and I'm so tired."