When she awakens she finds Sister Julienne hovering over the basinet. Sister Hilda yawns glancing at the time.
"Have I slept through the tune of my songbirds?" She queries as she rubs the sleep from her eyes.
"No. They are fast asleep. I did not mean to disturb you. You were crying out in your sleep. I doubt that I would not have heard you had I not been down the hall in the bathroom."
"I didn't mean to disturb you."
"You did not," she moves towards her, stopping next to the bed.
"Sister Julienne I apologize for all of the heartache this has bestowed upon you."
Sister Julienne squats next to the bed. "The heartache is not mine. I marvel at you as you choose to wear your pain as a badge of courage. I only wish I could help you more. I cannot imagine you feel particularly rested between the recurrent nightmares, and regular feedings."
She blinks, "I do wish to return to my slumber."
"When I was a young girl if I had a nightmare my mother would sing to me until my mind, and body relaxed enough to greet sleep again. I can't stop your nightmares, but I wonder if I might offer my assistance getting you back to sleep. I doubt churning through the recesses of your mind has a particularly calming effect."
"Indeed it does not. I would very much appreciate your assistance."
Sister Julienne quietly sings an old lullaby in lieu of a hymn as she so delicately pats the back of Sister Hilda's hand in the way only she can. Before she has reached the second verse Sister Hilda has returned to a slumber.
Later as her eyes begin to separate she feels as if she is in a haze. Her cheeks burn, and her body is dripping with perspiration. As her eyes open she finds Phyllis moving in her direction. A light flickers on and burns her eyes. Before she can reconcile herself to her surroundings a hand is pressed against her forehead. The scene feels entirely surreal in the moments that follow. Her body feels heavy as Phyllis, and Lucille strip her bed, and efficiently sponge her down with tepid water. She can only comply as her soaking pajamas are removed. As she is assisted back into bed a hand offers her a glass of fluid. The silence is finally broken.
"Drink up, lass. You have developed a fever. We are going to ring Dr. Turner."
"It's too late, or early," she groans.
"You allow us to do the worrying," Lucille reassures her.
She tumbles back into a slumber before she has the strength to argue. Soon enough she is being nudged back awake. Dr. Turner quickly examines her.
"Sister Hilda you are showing signs of an infection."
"Please don't send me to hospital. I don't want to leave them."
"I am going to start you on a course of antibiotics. I have full faith that Phyllis, and company will ensure that you are getting plenty of fluids, and rest. For now it is best for you to where you are."
"Thank you."
It take a few days before Sister Hilda starts feeling at all herself again. As the sun rises, so does she. Upon exiting one side of the bed she hovers over the basinet near her bed. Inside a pair of sleeping beauties rest. In the days since their birth she realizes they have already started to transform. Initially both were rather small. As she watches them inhale, and exhale she notices how much their cheeks have begun to fill out. She lowers herself into the nearby chair after gently lifting the pair of them from their enclosure. As per usual the pair of them are swaddled in their blanket together.
"Not to interrupt your slumber, but it would seem that you are sleeping past your feeding time."
Maeve opens an eye, and offers a look of disdain before her eyelids quickly reconnect. Sister Hilda can't help but smile.
"My apologies. I see that the pair of you are not yet prepared to greet the day. For days you have risen after two hours, and forty seven minutes. I am not sure that I know what to do with myself if the pair of you choose to continue your slumber."
Neither twin is motivated to stir. Even as Sister Hilda cautiously traces their tiny lips, and applies kisses to their foreheads they continue to snooze. She returns them to their basinet, and quietly exits the room. Her housemates, and colleagues can be heard preparing for the day in their quarters. She sneaks into the vacant bathroom. Between her recent fever, and uterine involution this is the first day that she doesn't have the immediate urge to crawl back into bed with the rising sun. A pair of pajamas hangs on the back of the door. She quietly turns on the bathtub faucet.
Less than thirty minutes later she has applied fresh clothing, and is slinking off back to her room. Upon entering she finds her daughters are still sound asleep. Sister Monica Joan sits in the chair silently watching her newest partners in crime.
"It would appear you have fully submerged yourself in water," Sister Monica Joan comments as she eyeballs Sister Hilda's wet hair.
"Without assistance, and it was absolutely glorious."
"My dear friends were not in a frenzy to eat?"
"Apparently not. I tried to disturb their slumber, and was greeted with disdain. Maeve offered her misgivings in regards to the plan, and promptly returned to sleep," she explains as she secures her hair into a braid.
"Phyllis has instructed me to tell you that breakfast is ready. I already ate."
Sister Hilda furrows her brow, "You are going to trust my ability to descend, and ascend the stairs independently?"
"Sister Julienne insisted that you required increased ambulation. I of course have come to read to my precious little larks."
"They are not larks this morning."
Sister Hilda descends the stairs independently, and manages to make it to the table. She finds her colleagues sitting around the table. Trixie smiles as she offers her the fresh pot of tea.
"It is nice to see you are finally able to join us. You had us quite concerned for a moment," Phyllis admits.