I was unused to
sickness and scarcely knew how much pain was necessary before I could
truthfully say I was ill. I remember thinking the matter over with great
seriousness, and wishing Mrs. Blake, with her superior knowledge of
bodily ailments, was there to decide, until at last I got tired and tried
to forget all about it. Then everything began to grow uncertain. I knew
that I was lying in bed and the fire burning brightly in the grate, while
persons were passing to and fro; but they did not look familiar. I kept
wishing so much that Mrs. Blake would come with her strong, cheery
presence to comfort me, and if she would give me a drink of pure cold
water from one of her own clean glasses I should be content to turn my
face to the wall and sleep. But after a time my one despairing thought
was Mr. Winthrop's displeasure, while hour after hour, and day after day,
I tried to tell him that I did not mean to deceive him, and wanted to be
just to every one alike, but he was never convinced and used to come and
go with the same stern, hard look on his face that nearly broke my heart.
When just at the point of utter despair, when I thought all had turned
against me, Mr. Bowen or Mrs. Blake used to step up and tell me they
understood it all and believed in me, then for awhile I would shut my
eyes and rest, only to open them again to plead once more for
forgiveness; but to plead vainly. Then I would be on the point of leaving
Oaklands forever, and bidding good-bye to every one in the household save
Mr.
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