My tone must have said more than my words did for she caught me by the wrist and held me fast.
"He didn't say nothing about my-about it being dangerous? I ain't dangerous, am I?"
I felt ready to sink.
"Oh Susan!" I gasped out; "you haven't any time to lose. You're going, you're going!" "Going!" she cried; "going where? You don't mean to say I'm a-dying? Why, it beats all my calculations. I was going to live ever so years, and save up ever so much money, and when my time come, I was going to put on my best fluted night-gown and night-cap, and lay my head on my handsome pillow, and draw the clothes up over me, neat and tidy, and die decent. But here's my bed all in a toss, and my frills all in a crumple and my room all upside down, and bottles of medicine setting around alongside of my vases, and nobody here but you, just a girl, and nothing else!"
All this came out by jerks, as it were, and at intervals.
"Don't talk so!" I fairly screamed. "Pray, pray to God to have mercy on you!"
She looked at me, bewildered, but yet as if the truth had reached her at last.
"Pray yourself!" she said, eagerly. "I don't know how. I can't think. Oh, my time's come my time's come! And I ain't ready! I ain't ready! Get down on your knees and pray with all your, might and main."
And I did; she holding my wrist tightly in hard hand. All at once I felt her hold relax. After that the next thing I knew I was lying on the floor and somebody was dashing water in my face.
It was the nurse. She had come at last, and found me by the side of the bed, where I had fallen, and had been trying to revive me ever since. I started up and looked about me. The nurse was closing Susan's eyes in a professional way, and performing other little services of the sort. The room wore an air of perfect desolation. The clothes Susan had on when she fell lay in a forlorn heap on a chair; her shoes and stockings were thrown hither and thither; the mahogany bureau, in which she had taken so much pride, was covered with vials, to make room for which some pretty trifles had been hastily thrust aside. I remembered what I had once said to Mrs. Cabot about having tasteful things about me, with a sort of shudder. What a mockery they are in the awful presence of death!