“Postponed, put off, Ma’am!” said the doctor, expounding eagerly.
“I know; good Heaven! I understand,” answered Aunt Dinah faintly.
“Give her some water. Here, Ma’am,” said he, presenting a glass of water at her pale lips. She sipped a little.
“Now we’ll ask, Ma’am, please, for how long?” suggested the doctor.
And this question likewise having been propounded, the table proceeded once more to spell—
“S-I-N-E D-I-E.”
“It ends with die,” said my poor aunt, faintly.
“Sine die, Ma’am. It means indefinitely, Ma’am; your death is postponed without a day named—for ever, Ma’am! It’s all over; and I’m very happy it has ended so. What a marvellous thing, Ma’am—give her some more water, please—those manifestations are. I hope, Ma’am, your mind is quite relieved—perfectly, Ma’am.”
Miss Dinah Perfect was taken with a violent shivering, in which her very teeth chattered. Then she cried, and then she laughed; and finally Doctor Drake administered some of his ammonia and valerian, and she became, at last, composed.
With audible thanksgivings old Winnie accompanied her mistress up stairs to her room, where Aunt Dinah herself, who, notwithstanding her necromancy, was a well-intending, pious Churchwoman, descended to her knees at her bedside, and poured forth her gratitude for the reprieve, and then in a loud and distinct voice read to old Winnie Dobbs the twentieth chapter of the Second Book of Kings, in which we read how the good king Hezekiah obtained by prayer ten years more of the light of life.