But how
could the mother rest when there was so much to do? The girls could
not manage as she could, and Elizabeth seemed "so poorly;" for the
patient elder daughter, as the summer dragged along, had a pitifully
hopeless look on her pale face, and went about listlessly, as if life
had lost all interest for her.
At last there came a morning when the mother did not rise for
breakfast.
"Hadn't we better send for Dr. Lewis, father?" said Elizabeth.
"Oh, no; your mother did not sleep much, it was so hot last night.
She'll be up directly. You keep her out of the kitchen, and see you
have dinner on time. We want to finish to-day, for I expect we'll have
a storm, from the feel of the air."
Noon came. Dinner for a dozen hungry men was on the table, and still
Mrs. Stillman was in bed. While the men were eating, Rachel slipped
in to her mother. She was awake, but her flushed face and wild, bright
eyes startled the girl.
"Oh, mother!" she cried, "you are very sick; you must have the
doctor."
"No, dear," the mother answered; "father is too busy now. I'll be
better after awhile. You go help wait on the table."
Rachel returned to the dining-room. "Take that fly-brush, Rachel,"
said her father. "Susy's no account; she's too lazy to keep it going."
Poor, tired little Susy, who had done a large churning that morning,
crimsoned to the roots of her hair as she handed Rachel the brush and
hurried out of the room.
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