"Yes, dear Miss Nancy, it is I. It appears as though a film had been removed from my eyes, and I see how selfish I have been. You have suffered for my attention. What has been the matter with me?"
"Oh, dear child, a fearful dispensation of Providence was sent you; and from the chastisement you are about recovering. Thank God, that you are still the mistress of your reason! For its safety, I often trembled. I did all for you that I could; but I was fearful that human skill would be of no avail."
"Thanks, my kind friend, and sorry I am for all the anxiety and uneasiness that I have given you."
"Oh, I am repaid, or rather was pre-paid for all and more, you were so kind to me."
Here Biddy entered, and I took down the Bible and read a few chapters from the book of Job.
"What a comfort that book is to us," said Biddy. "Many's the time, Ann, that Miss Nancy read it to you, when you'd sit an' look so wandering-like; but you are well now, Ann, an' all will be right with us."
"All can never be, Biddy, as once it was," and I shook my head.
"Oh, don't spake of it," and she wiped her moist eyes with her apron.
Days and weeks passed on thus smoothly, during which time Louise came often to see us; but the fatal sorrow was never alluded to. By common consent all avoided it.
Daily, hourly, Miss Nancy's health sank. I never saw the footsteps of the grim monster approach more rapidly than in her case. The wasting of her cheek was like the eating of a worm at the heart of a rose.