The Argosy — page 165: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

150 Hester. way for it, and its occupant, Mrs. Tracy, leant forward with a bow and a smile. A smile of triumph Hester thought bitterly. And this was the rival who had supplanted her, who was to take her place at Guest- wycke as the child of the house ! It had been some comfort to her sore heart to think she could be of use to Talbot’s dear ones. ‘To cherish and care for them—to fill the place he had left empty—what else was left to her! Poor Hester covered her face, and in her loneliness and humiliation broke into a flood of tears. The blow had fallen so heavily, sweeping away all at once not only the peaceful present, the hopeful future,—it was the past also, the past, with all its memories which had vanished in an hour. Chance words she had treasured,—a look here and there, reserved, as she thought for her and her only—the touch of a hand. Even the right to mourn the dead had been taken from her. What remained to make life worth the living ? it. A telegram was thrust into Hester’s hand as she presently crossed the Rectory threshold; a summons from her eldest sister, Mrs. Ormsby. Hester always thought afterwards it must have been by her good angel’s special provision that measles made its appearance in the Ormsby household just at this particular time. She obeyed the rather incoherent telegram, and flew to Taunton to her sister’s help. Mrs. Ormsby had five little ones who all succumbed in turn, and kept Hester’s hands full as she glided from one bedside to an- other, smoothing the pillows under feverish little heads, or carrying cooling drinks to parched lips, or answering appeals from fractious convalescents. 4 Janet was a motherly sort of body, with no conception of any world beyond her nursery, nor an idea that it was possible for Hester to have any interests beyond a brew of black-currant tea, or the spreading of a linseed poultice. At times Hester scarcely thought so either. The clamouring little voices, and the steam from bronchitis kettles shut out bitter thoughts and painful memories. ‘They faded into the dim distance in face of the absorbing necessity of seeing that Jack did of take cold, and that Mysie dd take nourishment. ‘Those two cost the mother and, aunt many a wakeful night of nursing, long after the robuster ones were safely convalescent. Perhaps it was no wonder that as the strain relaxed and the care- taking grew less arduous, Aunt Hester should droop and lose her bright colour. Although Janet was so comfortably unobservant, she could not help noticing it. Of course it was the want of sleep and the warm rooms. Hester was always such a one for air. She must come with them to the seaside and recover tone. So a week later found them all wandering over the sands at Morthoe, an out-of-the- way corner of the world after Hester’s own heart. ECORMICLICYOLKS eC)