More than one
kind-hearted woman went up and kissed her, and when, at the close of the
services, Mr. Tracy held her in his arms for a last look at her mother,
their tears fell fast for the child, so unconscious of the meaning of
what was passing around her.
'Isn't she beautiful! Such lovely hair, and eyes, and dazzling
complexion!' was said by more than one; and then they speculated as to
her future.
Would she go to the poor-house? Would Frank Tracy keep her with all his
children, or was it true, as they had heard, that Mr. Arthur Tracy was
to adopt her at his own? And where was Mr. Arthur? He might, at least,
have shown enough respect for the dead woman to come into the room, and
they wanted so much to see him, for there was a great deal of curiosity
with regard to the lunatic of Tracy Park among the lower class of people
who had come to Shannondale during the eleven years of his absence.
But Arthur was sick in bed, suffering alternately from chills and a
raging fever, which set his brain on fire and made him wilder than
usual. He had not slept well during the night. Indeed, he said, he had
not slept at all. But this was a common assertion of his, and one to
which Charles now paid little heed.
'A man can't snore and not sleep,' was the unanswerable argument with
which he refuted the sleepless nights of his master.
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