I approached without waking her, and observed that she had been reading the twenty-third chapter of St. Luke. The finger of her left hand lay upon the book, pointing to the words, as if she had been using it to guide her eye whilst she read.
I looked at the place, and was pleased at the apparently casual circumstance of her finger pointing at these words:—
“Lord, remember me when thou comest into thy kingdom.”
“Is this casual or designed?” thought I. “Either way it is remarkable.”
But in another moment I discovered that her finger was indeed an index to the thoughts of her heart.
She half awoke from her dozing state, but not sufficiently so to perceive that any person was present, and said in a kind of whisper:—
“Lord, remember me—remember me—remember—remember a poor child—Lord, remember me—”
She then suddenly started and perceived me, as she became fully awake. A faint blush overspread her cheeks for a moment, and then disappeared.
“Dame K---, how long have I been asleep?—Sir, I am very sorry—”
“And I am very glad to find you thus,” I replied. “You may say with David, ‘I laid me down and slept: I awaked, for the Lord sustained me.’ What were you reading?”