There was a moment's silence, when she suddenly rose and offered
me a seat, remarking, as she did so, that "Sisteh Ma'y Ann Jinkins
ca'in' on so" made her forget her manners.
"What is the matter?" said I.
"I dunno, seh, 'cep'n' she's mad 'cause docteh won't leave heh stay and
talk to Mist' Wheatley; _he_ made heh go, an' I s'pose hit kindeh put
heh out."
"What was she doing?"
"Talkin', seh; jiss talkin' and prayin'."
"And exciting the man into a fever," said the doctor, entering at that
moment. "I came here half an hour ago," he continued, turning to me,
"and found this woman--who really is a good nurse--turned out of her
husband's room by that termagant who has just gone, and whom I found in
the act of preparing the man for death, _she_ having decided his hours
on earth were numbered; in fact, I actually chanced in upon a species of
commendatory prayer, which, if continued another half hour--and I have
every reason to think it would have been--would almost inevitably have
ended the man's life."
"I suppose I had better not see him this morning, then," said I.
"Oh, yes; _you_ can see him; he's doing well now, and if he doesn't talk
too much, I think the sight of a cheerful face will do him good," and I
left him giving some directions to Ailse, while I proceeded up-stairs to
the room where Thomas lay.
Pages:
70
71
72
73
74
75
76
77
78
79
80
81
82
83
84
85
86
87
88
89
90
91
92
93
94