Flower and Jewel; or, Daisy Forrest's Daughter

Young Mrs. Fielding opened her dark, heavy-lidded eyes and gazed thoughtfully about the large, luxurious chamber, from which every ray of sunshine had been carefully excluded. As her eyes became accustomed to the subdued light she saw a fat old negro woman, in a white cap and apron, dozing placidly in a large rocking-chair.

"Nurse! nurse!" she cried.

"Hi, honey!" and the sleeper wakened with a start, and waddled up to the bed, with a broad smile on her dark visage.

"Have I been asleep, nurse? I feel so strange! I seem to remember that I was sick, and the doctor was here--"

Her faltering words were interrupted by a low chuckle of satisfaction from the old woman.

"Guess de doctor was here! Guess he put you to sleep, too; 'case how, he said, no use you suff'rin' sech cruel pains. Hi, honey! what you reckin? Your trouble all pas' now, and you de happy mudder o' two de beautifules' twins dat I eber sot my ole eyes on!"

As the excitable old woman blurted out her joyful news, Mrs. Fielding's head sunk back heavily on the lace-trimmed pillow.

"Oh!" she cried, with a deep sigh of relief and joy.

"Oh, indeed!" echoed the proud old nurse; and she waddled across to the large double crib and produced two tiny infants, which she carried to the bedside on a pillow. Mrs. Fielding looked up eagerly, and a low cry of delight broke from her lips.

"What little beauties! Look--they are opening their eyes! Oh, one has blue eyes like my husband's, and one has dark eyes like mine! Are they girls or boys, nurse?"

"Bofe gals!" replied the old woman, with a grunt of dissatisfaction.

"And I wanted a boy so much!" the young mother exclaimed, with a sigh; then, rallying from her disappointment: "But never mind, nurse; better luck next time. And, after all, it is perfectly lovely to have twin girls! They always create a sensation wherever they go. And I mean to give them such fancy names! Guess, nurse."

"Mary and Marthy, maybe, honey."

"Pshaw!" disgustedly. "Nothing of the kind! Wait--don't take the darlings away yet."

"But you am talkin' too much, missie."

"I'll be quiet in a minute. Look, nurse"--she put out a beautiful white hand and touched each of the babes in turn--"this dark one I'll name Jewel, this blue-eyed one Flower."

"Redikilous! I don't belebe dat Massa Charlie will 'low it," muttered the old woman; and Mrs. Fielding's eyes flashed angrily.

"I shall do as I please with my own babies!" she cried, imperiously.

"All right, honey. In course you'll do as you please--you al'ays does," was the soothing response; and then the old woman carried the twins back to their crib, adding, wisely: "'Tis a good sign to see sick people cross--dey's 'most sure to git well. Guess I'll ring de bell and hab some gruel fotched up fo' her."

But, in the very act of ringing the bell, her hand dropped to her side, her dark face turned ashen, and a groan forced its way through her lips.

A dreadful sound had broken the stillness of the sick-chamber--the low, muffled toll of the Tillage church-bell, telling of an impending funeral.

The beautiful dark face on the pillow lost its proud smile in a minute, and grew pale with awe.

"Who is dead?" she asked, with a little shiver; but old Maria did not answer for a moment, and again that low, muffled toll of the bell struck heavily upon the silence of the room.

Mrs. Fielding repeated her question a little impatiently, adding, wonderingly: