The latter softened a little as she uttered the closing sentence.
“You look at the darkest side,” I answered. “With God are the issues of life. He calls us, our children, or our friends, in His own good time. We cannot tell how any sickness will terminate; and hope for the best is always our truest state.”
“I hope for the best,” she replied; but with something equivocal in her voice.
“The best is life,” I said, scarcely reflecting upon my words.
“Not always,” she returned, still speaking calmly. “Death is often the highest blessing that God can give. It will be so in the present case.”
“Madam!”
My tone of surprise did not move her.
“It is simply true, Doctor,” she made answer. “As things are now, and as they promise to be in the future, the safest place for these helpless innocents is in Heaven; and I feel that their best Friend is about to remove them there through the door of sickness.”
I could not bear to hear her talk in this way. It sent cold chills through me. So I changed the subject.
On the next day, all the symptoms were unfavorable. Mrs. Dewey was calm as when I last saw her; but it was plain from her appearance, that she had taken little if any rest. Her manner towards the sick babes was full of tenderness; but there was no betrayal of weakness or distress in view of a fatal termination. She made no anxious inquiries, such as are pressed on physicians in cases of dangerous illness; but received my directions, and promised to give them a careful observance, with a self-possession that showed not a sign of wavering strength.