"
Esther was now alone in the world, and she remembered the night she walked
home from the hospital and how cruel the city had seemed. She was now
alone in that great wilderness with her child, for whom she would have to
work for many, many years. How would it all end? Would she be able to live
through it? Had she done right in letting Jenny have the money--her boy's
money? She should not have given it; but she hardly knew what she was
doing, she was so weak, and the news of her mother's death had overcome
her. She should not have given Jenny her boy's money.... But perhaps it
might turn out all right after all. If the matron got her a situation as
wet-nurse she'd be able to pull through. "So they would separate us," she
whispered, bending over the sleeping child. "There is no help for it, my
poor darling. There's no help for it, no help for it."
Next day Esther was taken out of bed. She spent part of the afternoon
sitting in an easy-chair, and Mrs. Jones came to see her. The little old
woman seemed like one whom she had known always, and Esther told her about
her mother's death and the departure of her family for Australia. Perhaps
a week lay between her and the beginning of the struggle which she
dreaded. She had been told that they did not usually keep anyone in the
hospital more than a fortnight.
Pages:
175
176
177
178
179
180
181
182
183
184
185
186
187
188
189
190
191
192
193
194
195
196
197
198
199