She seemed herself suddenly. "Oh, I am better this morning, Sarah. I am a little tired. I think I'll rest awhile."
I drew the sheets about her. I felt sick with fear.
I went to Maggie and told her.
Maggie stared ahead, her face tense with anxiety which she was obviously trying to thrust aside, rather than accept what she feared.
"She's a strong girl," she said. "She went out yesterday. I wonder ..." She looked at me steadily. "If it is ..."
She was silent for a while.
"We get fearful sometimes without cause," she went on. "It cannot be. But if it is, Sarah, we must needs face it."
There was silence throughout the house. Kitty remained in her bed.
That afternoon I went to her. She was lying very still, her eyes wide open.
"Sarah," she said. "It has come. I fear I have brought it into the house. I must go while there is time."
"Go ... where would you go?"
"I would go into the streets, as so many have. They go there to die because they do not want to take the plague to their families.
It is what I must do. Give me my clothes. Help me to dress. I know I must go ... before it is too late."
"You shall go nowhere. Kitty. You shall stay here in your bed."
"Oh. God help me. no. I am afflicted, I know. Soon the dreaded signs will show themselves on my breast. I must go before that."
"We shall never let you do that, not I, nor Maggie. This is your home. You will stay here and we shall care for you."
"And die for it."
"It may be that it is not the plague. It is just a rheum."
She laughed, without mirth. "I know it. I stopped in the street and talked with a woman. I know her slightly. She was one of the orange girls at Drury Lane. She was looking for food to buy. That was it. I could have caught it from her, or perhaps it is in the very air we breathe. I don't know, but I am stricken, Sarah. Go away from me. I would go myself, only I am so tired, so feeble. But I cannot bear to think that you or Maggie or Manha or Rose should suffer through me."
"Kitty, listen to me. If you have this terrible thing, there is nothing to be done about it now. >Xe have both been out. So let us not talk of your going out. Do not dare move from your bed. I know Maggie feels as I do. We are going to look after you."
"You don't understand what this means ..."
"I understand well. We are together, you. Maggie and I. Nothing shall part us, not even this terrible plague."
Her eyes were filled with tears. She said: "Yes ... we are together. It would be too late. If it is as I fear, it is already too late. I can never forgive myself. I should not have gone out. I should not have stopped to talk. It was folly. Oh why, why? All our dreams ... where have they led us? To a house in a desolate city with a red cross painted on the door."
"Not yet, Kitty. No, it is nothing. You are going to be better tomorrow. You will laugh at this."
"Shall I, Sarah? Oh yes, let us say that ... even though in our hearts we do not believe it."
"Then I told Maggie of this she was sober.
"It must not be," she said. "Not Kitty. She has her life before her. Oh no ... this terrible plague. The misery ... not Kitty. He will nurse her back to health, you and I, and we have .Martha and Rose. People do recover. I heard of a man years ago. That was not as bad as this time ... but he took the plague and he returned to robust health. Just go on as though we are not unduly concerned, Sarah. If it is the plague—and I fear it is—let us fight it. We'll keep our Kitty alive, in spite of it."
"Yes, Maggie,'' I said, "we will."
That night I saw the dreaded macula upon her breast.
Our door now bore that tragic sign: the red cross and "Lord have Mercy upon us."
She wanted me with her and that was where I wanted to be.
I was with her throughout the night.
She wanted to talk. I believed at times she was not sure where she was. It seemed as though she were talking to someone I did not know, and then suddenly she would be lucid and fully aware of what was happening.
In one of those moments she said to me: "Sarah, I am dying. I know it. I never thought it would be like this. I thought I would come back to the stage and prove to myself and them all that I had done was right for me. And now ... it seems so worthless. We strut and fret our hour upon the stage and then are heard no more. I played in Macbeth once. I loved those words so much. I never forgot them, though I did not have the honor of saying them. Charles Hart's grandmother's brother was a great poet, Sarah ... Sarah, I think of you so often and in particular now ... when I shall not be there."
"Kitty, you will get well."
"No. It has claimed me, Sarah. There's no hiding from the truth. My time has come. I blame myself. I should have gone away to die. Sarah, listen to me. You are very young. There is so much you do not understand. I fear for you. I always thought I should be there to look after you. You would be as a daughter to me. From the first moment I saw you I felt something for you ... something strange and sweet and strong."
"I was drawn to you, Kitty," I said. "We were drawn to each other. Do not talk of dying. It is more than I can bear."
"I was to be your guardian. You will be an actress, I know it. This terrible plague will pass and everything will be as it was before. There have been other epidemics ... it just happens that this is bigger than those others. Life will go back to what it was. The theaters will be open. There will be the triumphs, the failures and the dangers. I was going to protect you from them. I was going to make you into a great actress. Oh, Sarah, did I think I was God, to mold your destiny? And who was I, to think I could do that? Now I see how feeble I am. Look at me now. Where are my plans? I married because I thought it was best for me. I left my husband to return to the profession I loved. You see, I thought of myself all the time."
I tried to speak lightly. "Kitty, we all do ... every one of us."
"You make excuses for me, Sarah. I can see that I was brazen in my belief in myself, and God has struck me down to show me what a feeble person I am in truth. What am I now? What use to anyone? Use indeed! What have I done? I have brought the plague to this house. The red cross is on the door. This house is unclean. Do not enter."
"Kitty, you are acting as though on a stage. Thousands of people have this sickness. It could happen to any one of us. Stop talking nonsense about God's punishing you. All you did was try to help. I should have left my home sooner or later, I am sure. It was you who found a way for me. You have done more than I can say for me, Kitty. Thank you."
"My dear child, I do want all to go well for you. My last words to you ... for there will be few more, I am so weak ... I know I am failing fast, Sarah. Guard your virtue. Do not be deceived by fine promises. Maggie will be a good friend to you, but promise me you will be careful. If a man loves you enough to want to spend the rest of his life with you ... if he wants to make you his wife and you love him, that is well. But only then, Sarah. Promise." She laughed. "Ah, here I am, guiding you again. It is because I love you, Sarah, and I wanted to see everything good for you. Everything that went wrong for me must go right for you, everything I did not have myself you must have."
"I promise you, I shall remember your words forever." She seemed satisfied. She lay back exhausted, and I realized that talking like this had sapped what little energy she had. I bent over her. Her lips moved slightly. "Remember," she whispered. "Remember, Sarah." I stood by her bed, watching her. All the life seemed to have left her now.
I went to Maggie. I said: "She is very ill, I think."
Before the day was out, Kitty was dead.
It was growing dark. We sat together, myself, Maggie, Martha and Rose. We were listening for the sound of the pest cart. We knew that soon we should hear the tinkling of the bell and the sound of the wheels on the cobbles.