On entering the room, she found the woman prostrated on a low, comfortless bed; pale, feeble, and exhausted. By the bed-side, on a chair, were a phial and a Hebrew prayer-book.
"I am so glad you have come," said the sick woman, "I am so weak this morning. You see I coughed all night. I felt that I must see you. I hope it gave you no trouble to come."
"None whatever. Why have you not sent for me before?"
"I hoped, from day to day, to be strong enough to do the washing for the Home again. But instead of growing better, I have grown worse daily. Heaven only knows what I'll do when I cannot work."
"Where is your little daughter?"
"Gone to the baker's, to get me a warm bun. She fancied I could eat one, dear child!"
Touched by these surroundings of poverty and distress, Mrs. Marshall could scarcely repress her tears; but said:
"If you will allow me, I'll give you some brandy; that will revive you."
"Indeed, I have none; I used the last drop yesterday."
"Then I beg that you will allow me to remove you to the Home till you are recovered. There, under Dr. Gibbs's kind care, you may convalesce rapidly. Here, you are suffering for every comfort, and cannot hope to recover soon. I beg you to go."