“They are both very ill.”
She spoke with a slow deliberateness, that was unusual to her.
“They are sick children,” said I.
“Sick, it may be, unto death.”
There was no emotion in her voice.
I looked at her without replying.
“I can see them die, Doctor, if that must be.”
Oh, that icy coldness of manner, how it chilled me!
“No hand but mine shall tend them now, Doctor. They have been long enough in the care of others—neglected—almost forgotten—by their unworthy mother. But in this painful extremity I will be near them. I come back to the post of duty, even at this late hour, and all that is left for me, that will I do.”
I was deeply touched by her words and manner.