Barbara was watching Bessie.
Never had she seemed to herself so desolate, so lonely, so useless as to-day.

What could she do here?
Barbara ruled in kitchen and cellar, and she--she only stood in the way of her husband's fulfilling his duties to the city and state.
Such were her thoughts, when the knocker again struck the door.

She approached the window.

It was the doctor.

Bessie had grown worse and she, her mother, had not even inquired for the little one.
"The children, the children!" she murmured; her sorrowful features brightened, and her heart grew lighter as she said to herself: "I promised Peter to treat them as if they were my own, and I will fulfil the duties I have undertaken." Full of joyous excitement, she entered the sick-room, hastily closing the door behind her.