They ran madly down a steep
embankment, wrecking the carriage and throwing both passengers out upon a
bed of stones.
Pale and trembling the lad went straight to his mother's room where he
found her lying moaning on the bed, recognizing no one, unconscious of
anything that was going on about her.
He discovered that he loved her far more than he would have believed; he
thought her dying, and his heart smote him, as memory recalled many a
passionate, undutiful word he had spoken to her; often, it is true, under
great provocation, but oh, what would he not now have given to recall
them.
He had much ado to control his emotion sufficiently to ask the doctor what
he thought of her case. He was somewhat comforted by the reply,
"The injury to the head is very serious, yet I by no means despair of her
life."
"What can I do for her?" was the boy's next question in an imploring tone
as though he would esteem it a boon to be permitted to do something for
her relief.
"Nothing; we have plenty of help here, and you are too inexperienced for a
nurse," Dr. Barton said, not unkindly. "But see to your sister Molly," he
added.
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