We set to work once more with double zeal under the inspiration of Miss Warren's words and manner, but especially because assured that life still lingered. In less than a quarter of an hour there was a perceptible pulse. At last she was able to swallow a little stimulant, and the faint spark of life, of which we scarcely dared to speak lest our breath might extinguish it, began to kindle slowly. When at last she opened her eyes, Miss Warren turned hers heavenward with a fulness of gratitude that must have been sweet to the fatherly heart of God if the words be true, "Like as a father pitieth his children."
Mrs. Yocomb threw herself on her knees by the bedside, sobbing, "Thank
God! thank God!"
Reuben was growing wild with joy, and the father, overwhelmed with emotion, was struggling to rise, when the doctor said, in low, decided tones:
"Hush! Nothing must be said or done to excite or surprise her. Mr. and
Mrs. Yocomb, as you love your child, control yourselves. You, Mr.
Morton, would seem strange to her, and, with Reuben, had better leave
us now. Miss Warren will help me, and I think all will be well."
"Don't overtax Miss Warren," I urged, lingering anxiously at the door a moment.
She gave me a smiling, reassuring nod, as much as to say that she would take care of herself.
"God bless her!" I murmured, as I sought my room. "I believe she has saved the child."
CHAPTER XV
MY FATE
Having lighted the lamp in my room, I looked around it with a delicious sense of proprietorship. Its quaint, homely comfort was just to my taste, and now appeared doubly attractive. Chief of all, it was a portion of the home I had had some part in saving, and we instinctively love that which ministers to our self-complacency. An old house seems to gain a life and being of its own, and I almost imagined it conscious of gratitude that its existence had not been blotted out. Mrs. Yocomb's cordial invitation to come and stay when I could gave me at the time a glad sense that I had found a country refuge to which I could occasionally escape when in need of rest. I felt now, however, as if the old walls themselves would welcome me. As to the inmates of the home, I feared that their grateful sense of the services I was so fortunate as to render might make their boundless sense of obligation embarrassing to me. It would be their disposition to repay an ordinary favor tenfold, and they would always believe that Reuben and I had saved their lives, and the old home which no doubt had long been in their family.