"What," asked Jack eagerly.
"Pray for her at the service. You listen with all your ears, and you'll hear her name given, and the prayers of the congregation will be asked for her and you must say yours, Jack, say them with all your heart."
"But you said—you said Dr. Wilson was so clever that he often conquered pain," said Jack a little reproachfully.
"With God's help, yes! We none of us can do anything without it, and it's God's help we are going to ask for."
So Jack's service that morning was just one eager waiting for the mention of Jessie Butler's name, and when it came he folded his hands over his eyes and just said, "Jessie Butler, Jessie Butler," over and over again. No other words presented themselves to his mind, but surely the name so earnestly repeated reached the listening ear of the good God to whom he appealed.
The next few days were just a tussle between life and death with Jessie Butler, but life conquered, and on the fourth day the doctor was able to pronounce her out of danger. Her recovery would be slow and tedious, and she might have to remain where she was for a great many weeks, but she was going to live. Tom had confined his ministrations to the township during the days of danger, so as to be near when Jessie asked for him. He had taken his share of watching by her bed every night whilst the crisis lasted, and was as tender and handy as any woman, Mrs. Mason told the doctor.
"Yes, he's a good sort," said the doctor.
Jack's excitement and delight were great when Tom told him that Jessie was going to get better.
"Soon, will it be soon?" he said.
"No, it will be a long time before she's quite well, but she has taken the right turn."