Prev | Current Page 444 | Next

Kipling, Rudyard, 1865-1936

"From Mine Own People"

The ayahs on the threshold snored
peacefully.
There was a rattle of 'rickshaw wheels below, the clash of an opening door, a
heavy step on the stairs, and Mrs. Delville entered to find Mrs. Bent
screaming for the Doctor as she ran round the room. Mrs. Hauksbee, her hands
to her ears, and her face buried in the chintz of a chair, was quivering with
pain at each cry from the bed, and murmuring, "Thank God, I never bore a
child! Oh! thank God, I never bore a child!"
Mrs. Delville looked at the bed for an instant, took Mrs. Bent by the
shoulders, and said, quietly, "Get me some caustic. Be quick."
The mother obeyed mechanically. Mrs. Delville had thrown herself down by the
side of the child and was opening its mouth.
"Oh, you're killing her!" cried Mrs. Bent. "Where's the Doctor! Leave her
alone!"
Mrs. Delville made no reply for a minute, but busied herself with the child.
"Now the caustic, and hold a lamp behind my shoulder. Will you do as you are
told? The acid-bottle, if you don't know what I mean," she said.
A second time Mrs. Delville bent over the child. Mrs. Hauksbee, her face still
hidden, sobbed and shivered. One of the ayahs staggered sleepily into the
room, yawning: "Doctor Sahib come."
Mrs.


Pages:
432 433 434 435 436 437 438 439 440 441 442 443 444 445 446 447 448 449 450 451 452 453 454 455 456