Left at Home

Left at Home, by Mary L. Code

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Title: Left at Home or, The Heart's Resting Place
Author: Mary L. Code

Release Date: October 8, 2007 [eBook #22916]
Language: English
Character set encoding: ISO-646-US (US-ASCII)
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LEFT AT HOME;
Or, The Heart's Resting-place.
by
MARY L. CODE,
Author of "Wandering May;" "Clarie's Little Charge;" "Lonely Lily;"
Etc.

[Illustration: "They walked on for some distance without saying
much."--Page 92.]

Kilmarnock: John Ritchie, Publisher of Christian Literature.
And Through All Booksellers.

CONTENTS.
CHAPTER I.
Page LITTLE MILDRED 7
CHAPTER II.
GOING TO INDIA 16
CHAPTER III.

ARTHUR'S MOTHER 26
CHAPTER IV.
LAST DAYS AT ASHTON GRANGE 30
CHAPTER V.
THE PARTING 44
CHAPTER VI.
MYRTLE HILL 47
CHAPTER VII.
LEFT ALONE 60
CHAPTER VIII.
EDGAR NORTH 79
CHAPTER IX.
MIDSUMMER HOLIDAYS AMONG THE MOUNTAINS 108
CHAPTER X.
AT REST NOW 114
CHAPTER XI.
CONCLUSION 140
[Illustration: ASHTON GRANGE.]

LEFT AT HOME.
CHAPTER I.
LITTLE MILDRED, OR THE GATHERED LAMB.
"Stop, Mr. Arthur, if you please. You are not to go upstairs. Mistress
left orders for you to stay in the library until she came down."
So spoke the younger servant at Ashton Grange, as Arthur rushed
upstairs three steps at a time.
"Why, what's the matter? Why shouldn't I go upstairs? Is anything the
matter?"
"I don't know, Mr. Arthur, whether there is much the matter; but I am
afraid Miss Mildred is ill. The doctor is upstairs, and mistress said there
is not to be a sound of noise."
These words quite sobered Arthur, as he turned from the stairs and
went into the library. It was a pleasant room at all times, but especially
so on a winter's evening, when the frosty night was shining clear and
cold without. A bright fire was blazing, lighting up the crimson carpet
and curtains, and sparkling on the snowy table-cover, where
preparations for such a tea were made as Arthur was usually at this time
prepared to appreciate. But as he sat down on the rug, and, holding his
face in his two hands, gazed earnestly into the fire, he was not thinking
of his hunger. A very grave expression was on his boyish face. He was
thinking of what the housemaid had told him, and wishing very much
to know more.
"Why, what can be the matter with baby?" he thought. "She was all
right when I went out. She can't be so very bad, I should think, all in a
minute. No; I don't believe she is. I'm hungry."
And Arthur started up, and came nearer the table, intending to help
himself to something. But then he stopped, and thought again--

"I suppose she is though, or else the doctor wouldn't be here, and every
one wouldn't have to be so quiet. Oh, dear, I wish mother would come.
I wish she would come. I do wish very much she would come."
Then he thought of creeping quietly upstairs, and listening outside the
nursery door; and the temptation to do so was very strong; but he
remembered his mother's injunction, and sat down again on the rug.
But it was very hard to wait. It would have been a great deal easier to
Arthur to do almost anything else just then. One half hour and then
another passed, and no sound came to break the stillness which was in
the house, till Arthur's head dropped on his hand for weariness, and in a
few minutes he was fast asleep. How long he remained so he hardly
knew; but he did not wake until a gentle step came on the stairs. The
door was softly opened, and Arthur's mother entered the room. She was
very pale, and had a sad, sad look on her face, and just sank wearily
down in an easy-chair, on the opposite side of the fireplace to her little
boy, who was wide awake now.
"Oh, mother, is it true what Anna says about Mildred, that she is so
very ill?" asked Arthur breathlessly. He had come nearer to his mother,
and, leaning his chin on her knee, he looked eagerly up in her face.
"Yes, Arthur;" and the hand that was pressed