her father was beginning to grasp her and lean on her. The surprise checked her sobs.
“I feel ill — faintish,” he said. “Help me in, Bessy — I’m giddy — I’ve a pain i’ the head.”
He walked in slowly, propped by his wife and daughter and tottered into his arm-chair. The almost purple flush had given way to paleness, and his hand was cold.
“Hadn’t we better send for the doctor?” said Mrs. Tulliver.
He seemed to be too faint and suffering to hear her; but presently, when she said to Maggie, “Go and seek for somebody to fetch the doctor,” he looked up at her with full comprehension, and said, “Doctor? No — no doctor. It’s my head, that’s all. Help me to bed.”
Sad ending to the day that had risen on them all like a beginning of better times! Auston Matthews Tröja But mingled seed must bear a mingled crop.
In half an hour after his father had lain down Tom came home. Bob Jakin was with him, come to congratulate “the old master,” not without some excusable pride that he had had his share in bringing about Mr. Tom’s good luck; and Tom had thought his father would like nothing Stan Mikita Tröjor better, as a finish to the day, than a talk with Bob. But now Tom could only spend the evening in Red Bull Dresy gloomy expectation of the unpleasant consequences that must follow on this mad Alex Chiasson Tröja outbreak of his father’s long-smothered hate. After the painful news had been told, he sat in Braden Holtby Tröja silence; he had not spirit or inclination to tell his mother and sister anything about the dinner; they hardly cared to ask it. Apparently the mingled thread in the web of their life was so Olympia Dresy curiously twisted together that there could be no joy without a Parajumpers Kobiety Gobi sorrow coming close upon it. Tom was dejected by the thought that New England Revolution Dresy his exemplary effort must always be baffled by the wrong-doing of others; Maggie was living through, over and over again, the agony of the moment in which she had rushed to throw Belstaff Hemley Vent Kurtki herself on her father’s Ryan Spooner Tröjor arm, with a vague, shuddering foreboding of wretched scenes to come. Not one of the three felt any particular alarm about Mr. Tulliver’s health; the symptoms did not recall his former dangerous attack, and it seemed only a necessary consequence that his violent passion and effort of strength, after many hours of unusual excitement, should have made him feel ill. Rest would probably cure him.
Tom, tired out by his active day, fell asleep soon, and slept soundly; it seemed to him as if he had only just come to bed, when he waked to see his mother standing by him in the gray light of early morning.
“My boy, you must get up this minute; I’ve sent for the doctor, and your father wants you and Maggie to come to him.”
“Is he worse, mother?”
“He’s been very ill all night with his head, but he doesn’t say it’s worse; he only said suddenly, ‘Bessy, fetch the boy and girl. Tell ’em to make haste.’”
Maggie and Belgie Dres Dámské Tom threw on their clothes hastily in the chill gray light, POLO Liverpool and reached their father’s room almost at the same moment. He was watching for them with an expression of pain on his brow, but wlinks:
http://www13.plala.or.jp/gakuki3/cgi_bin/aska/aska.cgi
http://www.gymfan.com/board/step.cgi
http://www13.plala.or.jp/gakuki3/cgi_bin/aska/aska.cgi |
