"Thank you. How well I feel now! what ineffable joy I experience!" said the sick woman, and a faint smile played over her thin lips. "How merciful God is! Is it not so? He is merciful and omnipotent!" And again with an eager prayer she turned her tearful eyes towards the holy images.
Then suddenly something seemed to occur to her mind. She beckoned to her husband.
"You are never willing to do what I desire," said she in a weak and querulous voice.
The husband, stretching his neck, listened to her submissively.
"What is it, my love?"
"How many times I have told you that these doctors don't know any thing! There are uneducated women doctors: they make cures. That's what the good father said.... A shopkeeper.... send for him"....
"For whom, my love?"
"Good heavens! you can never understand me." And the dying woman frowned, and closed her eyes.
The doctor came to her, and took her hand. Her pulse was evidently growing feebler and feebler. He made a sign to the husband. The sick woman remarked this gesture, and looked around in fright. The cousin turned away to hide her tears.
"Don't weep, don't torment yourselves on my account," said the invalid. "That takes away from me my last comfort."