Further Chronicles of Avonlea by Lucy Maud Montgomery (best books to read for teens txt) š
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Presently the sibilant silence was broken by a low, half-strangled sob. The sick woman, who had been watching a white evening star through the cherry boughs, turned impatiently at the sound.
āI wish youād get over that, Eunice,ā she said sharply. āI donāt want any one crying over me until Iām dead; and then youāll have plenty else to do, most likely. If it wasnāt for Christopher I wouldnāt be anyways unwilling to die. When one has had such a life as Iāve had, there isnāt much in death to be afraid of. Only, a body would like to go right off, and not die by inches, like this. āTaināt fair!ā
She snapped out the last sentence as if addressing some unseen, tyrannical presence; her voice, at least, had not weakened, but was as clear and incisive as ever. The boy at the window stopped whistling, and the girl silently wiped her eyes on her faded gingham apron.
Naomi drew her own hair over her lips, and kissed it.
āYouāll never have hair like that, Eunice,ā she said. āIt does seem most too pretty to bury, doesnāt it? Mind you see that it is fixed nice when Iām laid out. Comb it right up on my head and braid it there.ā
A sound, such as might be wrung from a suffering animal, came from the girl, but at the same moment the door opened and a woman entered.
āChris,ā she said sharply, āyou get right off for the cows, you lazy little scamp! You knew right well you had to go for them, and here youāve been idling, and me looking high and low for you. Make haste now; itās ridiculous late.ā
The boy pulled in his head and scowled at his aunt, but he dared not disobey, and went out slowly with a sulky mutter.
His aunt subdued a movement, that might have developed into a sound box on his ears, with a rather frightened glance at the bed. Naomi Holland was spent and dying, but her temper was still a thing to hold in dread, and her sister-in-law did not choose to rouse it by slapping Christopher. To her and her co-nurse the spasms of rage, which the sick woman sometimes had, seemed to partake of the nature of devil possession. The last one, only three days before, had been provoked by Christopherās complaint of some real or fancied ill-treatment from his aunt, and the latter had no mind to bring on another. She went over to the bed, and straightened the clothes.
āSarah and I are going out to milk, Naomi, Eunice will stay with you. She can run for us if you feel another spell coming on.ā
Naomi Holland looked up at her sister-in-law with something like malicious enjoyment.
āI aināt going to have any more spells, Carāline Anne. Iām going to die to-night. But you neednāt hurry milking for that, at all. Iāll take my time.ā
She liked to see the alarm that came over the other womanās face. It was richly worth while to scare Caroline Holland like that.
āAre you feeling worse, Naomi?ā asked the latter shakily. āIf you are Iāll send for Charles to go for the doctor.ā
āNo, you wonāt. What good can the doctor do me? I donāt want either his or Charlesā permission to die. You can go and milk at your ease. I wonāt die till youāre doneāI wonāt deprive you of the pleasure of seeing me.ā
Mrs. Holland shut her lips and went out of the room with a martyr-like expression. In some ways Naomi Holland was not an exacting patient, but she took her satisfaction out in the biting, malicious speeches she never failed to make. Even on her deathbed her hostility to her sister-in-law had to find vent.
Outside, at the steps, Sarah Spencer was waiting, with the milk pails over her arm. Sarah Spencer had no fixed abiding place, but was always to be found where there was illness. Her experience, and an utter lack of nerves, made her a good nurse. She was a tall, homely woman with iron gray hair and a lined face. Beside her, the trim little Caroline Anne, with her light step and round, apple-red face, looked almost girlish.
The two women walked to the barnyard, discussing Naomi in undertones as they went. The house they had left behind grew very still.
In Naomi Hollandās room the shadows were gathering. Eunice timidly bent over her mother.
āMa, do you want the light lit?ā
āNo, Iām watching that star just below the big cherry bough. Iāll see it set behind the hill. Iāve seen it there, off and on, for twelve years, and now Iām taking a good-by look at it. I want you to keep still, too. Iāve got a few things to think over, and I donāt want to be disturbed.ā
The girl lifted herself about noiselessly and locked her hands over the bed-post. Then she laid her face down on them, biting at them silently until the marks of her teeth showed white against their red roughness.
Naomi Holland did not notice her. She was looking steadfastly at the great, pearl-like sparkle in the faint-hued sky. When it finally disappeared from her vision she struck her long, thin hands together twice, and a terrible expression came over her face for a moment. But, when she spoke, her voice was quite calm.
āYou can light the candle now, Eunice. Put it up on the shelf here, where it wonāt shine in my eyes. And then sit down on the foot of the bed where I can see you. Iāve got something to say to you.ā
Eunice obeyed her noiselessly. As the pallid light shot up, it revealed the child plainly. She was thin and ill-formedāone shoulder being slightly higher than the other. She was dark, like her mother, but her features were irregular, and her hair fell in straggling, dim locks about her face. Her eyes were a dark brown, and over one was the slanting red scar of a birth mark.
Naomi Holland looked at her with the contempt she had never made any pretense of concealing. The girl was bone of her bone and flesh of her flesh, but she had never loved her; all the mother love in her had been lavished on her son.
When Eunice had placed the candle on the shelf and drawn down the ugly blue paper blinds, shutting out the strips of violet sky where a score of glimmering points were now visible, she sat down on the foot of the bed, facing her mother.
āThe door is shut, is it, Eunice?ā
Eunice nodded.
āBecause I donāt want Carāline or any one else peeking and harking to what Iāve got to say. Sheās out milking now, and I must make the most of the chance. Eunice, Iām going to die, andā¦ā
āMa!ā
āThere now, no taking on! You knew it had to come sometime soon. I havenāt the strength to talk much, so I want you just to be quiet and listen. I aināt feeling any pain now, so I can think and talk pretty clear. Are you listening, Eunice?ā
āYes, ma.ā
āMind you are. Itās about Christopher. It hasnāt been out of my mind since I laid down here. Iāve fought for a year to live, on his account, and it aināt any use. I must just die and leave him, and I donāt know what heāll do. Itās dreadful to think of.ā
She paused, and struck her shrunken hand sharply against the table.
āIf he was bigger and could look out for himself it wouldnāt be so bad. But he is only a little fellow, and Carāline hates him. Youāll both have to live with her until youāre grown up. Sheāll put on him and abuse him. Heās like his father in some ways; heās got a temper and he is stubborn. Heāll never get on with Carāline. Now, Eunice, Iām going to get you to promise to take my place with Christopher when Iām dead, as far as you can. Youāve got to; itās your duty. But I want you to promise.ā
āI will, ma,ā whispered the girl solemnly.
āYou havenāt much forceāyou never had. If you was smart, you could do a lot for him. But youāll have to do your best. I want you to promise me faithfully that youāll stand by him and protect himāthat you wonāt let people impose on him; that youāll never desert him as long as he needs you, no matter what comes. Eunice, promise me this!ā
In her excitement the sick woman raised herself up in the bed, and clutched the girlās thin arm. Her eyes were blazing and two scarlet spots glowed in her thin cheeks.
Euniceās face was white and tense. She clasped her hands as one in prayer.
āMother, I promise it!ā
Naomi relaxed her grip on the girlās arm and sank back exhausted on the pillow. A death-like look came over her face as the excitement faded.
āMy mind is easier now. But if I could only have lived another year or two! And I hate Carālineāhate her! Eunice, donāt you ever let her abuse my boy! If she did, or if you neglected him, Iād come back from my grave to you! As for the property, things will be pretty straight. Iāve seen to that. Thereāll be no squabbling and doing Christopher out of his rights. Heās to have the farm as soon as heās old enough to work it, and heās to provide for you. And, Eunice, remember what youāve promised!ā
Outside, in the thickly gathering dusk, Caroline Holland and Sarah Spencer were at the dairy, straining the milk into creamers, for which Christopher was sullenly pumping water. The house was far from the road, up to which a long red lane led; across the field was the old Holland homestead where Caroline lived; her unmarried sister-in-law, Electa Holland, kept house for her while she waited on Naomi.
It was her night to go home and sleep, but Naomiās words haunted her, although she believed they were born of pure ācantankerousness.ā
āYouād better go in and look at her, Sarah,ā she said, as she rinsed out the pails. āIf you think Iād better stay here to-night, I will. If the woman was like anybody else a body would know what to do; but, if she thought she could scare us by saying she was going to die, sheād say it.ā
When Sarah went in, the sick room was very quiet. In her opinion, Naomi was no worse than usual, and she told Caroline so; but the latter felt vaguely uneasy and concluded to stay.
Naomi was as cool and defiant as customary. She made them bring Christopher in to say good-night and had him lifted up on the bed to kiss her. Then she held him back and looked at him admiringlyāat the bright curls and rosy cheeks and round, firm limbs. The boy was uncomfortable under her gaze and squirmed hastily down. Her eyes followed him greedily, as he went out. When the door closed behind him, she groaned. Sarah Spencer was startled. She had never heard Naomi Holland groan since she had come to wait on her.
āAre you feeling any worse, Naomi? Is the pain coming back?ā
āNo. Go and tell Carāline to give Christopher some of that grape jelly on his bread before he goes to bed. Sheāll find it in the cupboard under the stairs.ā
Presently the house grew very still. Caroline had dropped asleep on the sitting-room lounge, across the hall. Sarah Spencer nodded over her knitting by the table in the sick room. She had told Eunice to
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