"Now don't distress yourself, Mrs. Halliburton. In these lingering cases we must be content to wait the issue, whatever it may be."
"I have had so much trouble of one sort or another, that I think I have become inured to it," she continued, striving to speak more calmly. "These several days past I have been deciding to ask you the truth. If I am to lose her, it will be better that I should know it beforehand: it will be easier for me to bear. She is in danger, is she not?"
"Yes," he replied; "I fear she is."
"Is there any hope?"
"Well, you know, Mrs. Halliburton, while there is life there is hope."
His tone was kindly; but she could not well mistake that, of human hope, there was none. Her lips were pale—her bosom was heaving. "I understand," she murmured. "Tell me one other thing: how near is the end?"
"That I really cannot tell you," he more readily replied. "These cases vary much in their progression. Do not be downcast, Mrs. Halliburton. We must every one of us go, sooner or later. Sometimes I wish I could see all mine gone before me, rather than leave them behind to the cares of this troublesome world."
He shook hands and departed. Jane crept softly upstairs to her own room, and was shut in for ten minutes. Poor thing! she could not spare time for the indulgence of grief, as others might! she must hasten to her never-ceasing work. She had her task to do; and ten minutes lost from it in the day must be made up at night.
As she was going downstairs, with red eyes, Mrs. Reece heard her footstep and called to her from her bed. "Is that you, ma'am?"
So Jane had to go in. "Are you better?" she inquired.