"Why, what ails you, mother?" he stammered out. "I didn't
tell you, 'cause I thought you'd be blamin' him for 't. Mother, don't
you take on so; now don't!"
"I--wish--you'd go an' get Rebecca an' Barney, father," said Deborah,
faintly. She suddenly wavered so that her old husband wavered with
her, and they reeled back and forth like two old trees in a wind.
"Why, what ails you, mother, what ails you?" Caleb gasped out. He
caught Deborah's arm, and clutched out at something to save himself.
Then they sank to the floor together.
Barney had just come up from the field, and was at his own door when
his father came panting into the yard. "What is it? what's the
matter?" he cried out.
"Mother's fell!" gasped Caleb.
"Fell! has she hurt her?"
"Dunno--she can't get up; come quick!"
As Barney rushed out of the yard he cast a glance up the hill towards
Charlotte's house; in every crisis of his life his mind turned
involuntarily to her, as if she were another self, to be made
acquainted with all its exigencies. But when he came out on the road
he met Charlotte herself face to face; she had been over to her Aunt
Sylvia's.
"Something is wrong with mother," Barney said, with a strange appeal.
Then he went on, and Charlotte was at his side, running as fast as
he. Caleb hurried after them, panting, the tears running down his old
cheeks.
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