Selma's eyes, like the glint of two swords, bent themselves on her husband's bed. A righteous anger reinforced her grieving heart and made her spirit militant, while the creeping hours passed. Over and over she pursued the tenor of her protest until her wearied system sought refuge in sleep. She was not conscious of slumbering, but she reasoned later that she must have slept, for she suddenly became conscious of a touch on the shoulder and a vibrant utterance of her name.
"Selma, Selma, you must come at once."
Her returning wits realized that it was Pauline who was arousing her and urging her to Wilbur's bed-side. She sprang forward, and saw the light of existence fading from her husband's eyes into the mute dulness of death. Dr. Page was bending over him in a desperate, but vain, effort to force some restorative between his lips. At the foot of the bed stood the nurse, with an expression which betrayed what had occurred.
"What is it, Wilbur? What have they done to you? What has happened?" Selma cried, looking from one to the other, though she had discerned the truth in a flash. As she spoke, Dr. Page desisted from his undertaking, and stepped back from the bed, and instantly Selma threw herself on her knees and pressed her face upon Littleton's lifeless features. There was no response. His spirit had departed.
"His heart could not stand the strain. That is the great peril in pneumonia," she heard the doctor murmur.
"He is dead," she cried, in a horrified outburst, and she looked up at the pitying group with the gaze of an afflicted lioness. She caught sight of Pauline smiling through her tears—that same unprotesting, submissive smile—and holding out her hands to her. Selma, rising, turned away, and as her sister-in-law sought to put her arm about her, evaded the caress.
"No—no," she said. Then facing her, added, with aggrieved conviction:
"I cannot believe that Wilbur's death was necessary. Why was not something energetic done?"
Pauline flushed, but, ascribing the calumny to distress, she held her peace, and said, simply:
"Sh! dear. You will understand better by and by."