“She must have slept all night; I did not hear her speak or stir,” replied Diana in bewilderment.
The doctor made no remark, but passed quickly through to the other room, followed by Diana bearing the lighted lamp.
“She has been dead several hours,” he said, taking the lifeless hand in his.
“Oh, doctor, do not think I neglected her!” exclaimed Diana, with blanched face and trembling with grief and excitement. “She was so much better last evening and ate a slice of toast and drank a cup of tea. Oh, how I wish now I had not lain down!”
“You were worn out with watching and should not have been left alone,” said Dr. Lattinger kindly.
“Any of the neighbors would have come had I asked it. I did not have an idea that anyone was needed.”
“Who would you like to have with you? I will call any place you specify. In the meantime it would be better to remove the little girl to the cot, that she may not know when first waking that her aunt is gone.”
“I will, doctor; and if you are going out upon your rounds please call at ‘Friedenheim’ and ask Mrs. Courtney to come. Mrs. Ashley admired her, and said she reminded her of her sister, Mrs. Warfield.”
“I am on my way home and have just passed ‘Friedenheim;’ but it will be no trouble to drive back and tell Mrs. Courtney, and I hope she can come.”
Dr. Lattinger left and Diana removed Hilda to the cot, then sat by the bedside of Mrs. Ashley and wept without restraint.