Page:The Mystery of Central Park.djvu/78

72 "Mother's dead," blurted out Maggie.

Dido was stunned into silence by this communication. She could say nothing.

What could you say to a girl when her mother is dead?

What could console a girl at such a time?

Maggie told Dido that the dead body of her mother, who, for a year past, had been confined to her bed with consumption, was lying alone, uncared for, at home.

"I loved her so, and I did't want her to die," she said pitifully. "I was afraid to go home after work for fear I'd find her dead, and I was afraid to sleep at night for fear she'd be dead when I woke up. She lay so still, and she looked so white and death-like, and I would lean on my elbow and watch her, fearing her breath would stop. Every few moments I prayed, 'O God, save her!' 'O God, have mercy!' I—I couldn't say more, and I would swallow down the thing that would