Thou com'st and set'st me free;
I stood in shame and sorrow,
Thou callest me to Thee;
And lift'st me up to honor
And giv'st me heavenly joys
Which cannot be diminished
By earthly scorn and noise.'"
The sick woman had folded her hands while she spoke, and in her eyes there was a wonderful light; but now she sank back on her pillows, exhausted and pale. Marianne stood there quietly and now and then had to wipe her eyes.
"But now I must run to the doctor,—it is high time," she said, frightened. "Mrs. Dorn, can I give you anything?"
"No, I thank you," the sick woman answered softly. "I thank you for everything, my good Marianne."