Lucy (Chapter_15)

It was with difficulty she reached home. The snow was now all dissolved,--the unpaved streets were wet and muddy, she often sunk over her shoes in the mire from whence she could scarcely extricate herself--The gutters were like wide streams, and the Tiber which in the morning she had stepped across, was now a furious torrent, swelled by the melted snow which she could not pass without serious risk to her life. But she had no choice, and grasping the branch of a tree that hung across the water, she waded through the swollen and impetuous stream. The atmosphere was loaded with vapours, formed by the rapid evaporation of the snow, oppressed the lungs, and increased the weariness which the warmth and fatigue had occasioned. When Lucy at last reached home, she was so worn out, that she could not for some time answer Becky's eager enquiries; and had not Richard come in, his wife's curiosity might have proved fatal to the poor girl, for in her impatience to hear what luck, Lucy had met with, she paid no attention to her actual situation. Not so her husband. on perceiving the wet shoes and cloths of Lucy, he had insisted on her changing them, taking something warm to drink and drawing near the fire, which he kindled with the brush-wood he had as usual picked up on his way home. It was not until he saw her refreshed and her child laid asleep

brush-wood he had as usual picked up on his way home. It was not until he saw her refreshed and her child laid asleep in the bed, that he would suffer his wife to ask, or Lucy to answer, questions. Then drawing near the bright blaze, his cap hung on its usual peg, and his two youngest children in his arms, he turned to Lucy and enquired "how she had fared the day?" "Better, far better, replied Lucy, than I ever have before. Oh Uncle Richard, had you seen the good, the beautiful, the happy family I have seen today, it would have done your heart good--and so young too--Why the father and mother, are hardly more than children as one may say-never have I seen such a lovely sight--Yet rich, and happy as they seem, they are not proud--oh no--the poorest body, could not have been kinder to me, than that elegant young lady--and her husband too, bless his heart, if you will believe me, he got up and opened the door for me, when I was coming away-And as for the sweet children--God bless them--God bless them," said Lucy wiping her eyes. "If ever there were children fit for heaven, surely these little creatures are." "Well all this is very fine," said Richard, after listening to the overflowings of Lucy's grateful heart and her description of the

garden, the green house, the apartments are but the question is, what help have they given you?" "A thousand times more than I deserve said Lucy--that is, they have promised it--a home--yes Uncle Richard, a home where the kind lady says, she will give me work and every thing I want, and that my child, shall be her child--Oh God bless her, a hundred and a hundred times." "Amen to that," said Richard. "Their grandeur has not yet hardened their young hearts it seems, as it is too apt to do--and maybe", he added with a sigh, "it will do" "Well to be sure," said Becky, you have been main lucky today and its to be hoped your good fortin wont hard in your heart but that when you get among the great folks, you'll think s'time of them that took you in, when you had not where to lay your head." "When I forget you and yours Becky," said Lucy clasping her hands and looking upwards, "may God forget me!" and the tears gushed from her eyes as she spoke. Richard, gave his wife a look of displeasure, and turning to Lucy talked over plans for the future, and thus relieved her from the painful recollections of the past. Lucy's heart was so full of gratitude, that she could

Lucy's heart was so full of gratitude, that she could talk of nothing but this charming family and she {proposed} spoke of devoting her life to them, and of the love she already felt and should forever feel, for both parents and children, especially of the little Willy whom her heart already adopted as her own. It was late before she had exhausted the delightful subject, and wearied the patience of her auditors; Richard listened from pure benevolence, and Becky with more interested views, promising herself largely to partake in the good luck of Miss Lucy. The next morning the sun rose as bright and warm as the day before; but when Becky hastened to awake Lucy, she found her in a high fever and her bones aching in every joint. It would be hard to say, who felt the disappointment most bitterly, but as Becky's new raised hopes now depended on Lucy, she applied all the simple remedies she had, to relieve the suffering girl from the violent cold she had taken. For some days however her herb-teas and fomentations produced but little effect and more than a week elasped before Lucy could walk about the room and when she at last felt well enough to venture abroad, the weather was so piercing cold, that Richard would not consent to her exposing herself again, tho' Becky insisted on it, that it was far wholesomer weather, than when it was so

unna'tral warm and that the cold would brace her up, as it was na'tral it should, seeing as how hot weather in winter was a bad thing and sure to make a green church yard in summer, as the saying was, which to her knowledge always held true. Richard however persisted, and to lessen the anxiety of his wife and Lucy, offered to go himself to Mrs Latimore's and explain the cause of her not coming. "Well do so daddy," said Becky, "and I'll be bound when that good young mistress hears how sick Miss Lucy has been, she'll be sure to send her something nice; so make haste daddy, make haste!" Impatiently was Richard's return expected and no sooner had Becky perceive him coming than she eagerly ran to meet him, calling out, well daddy, what news,--what have you brought us? To these enquiries she received no reply, Richard came along silently and slowly--He passed Lucy, who had likewise gone to the door to meet him, and sitting down in his usual seat in the chimney corner, and leaning his elbows on his knees, and stooped over the few embers that were smouldering on the hearth. "Lack a day!" said Becky, as she looked at him, "why whats got into the old man? not even a word to