CHAPTER XXXV
“God! do not let my loved one die,
But rather wait until the time
That I am grown in purity
Enough to enter thy pure clime.”
Lowell.
When Ivy from time to time opened her eyes in that dreadful interval of waiting for the ambulance which seemed to her almost age-long, she saw a curious succession of faces. First there had been the cheerful doctor, and Evereld with her brave blue eyes and firm little mouth. Then those two faces had mysteriously disappeared, and the wrinkled and careworn features of the wardrobe woman had greeted her instead, and Helen Orme dressed as Nerissa bent over her and asked her if she suffered much.
After that Myra Brinton had stooped and kissed her, to her great astonishment, and all the foolish little quarrels of the past died out under the influence of that great uniter of human beings—pain. Ralph came too with kindly inquiries, and she roused herself to ask again after Evereld.