This
was all that she was to expect, and more indeed than she had thought
feasible; for folks of their condition were sick and got well, lived
or died without the aid of practitioners above the skill of Goody
Grace. However, he gave her very little hope, though he would not
pronounce that her brother was dying. A few days would decide, and
quiet was the only chance.
Scarcely however were the visitors gone, and Stead left to what rest
pain would allow him after being handled by the surgeon, when a sound
of sobbing was heard outside. "Oh! oh! I'm afraid to go in! Ben!
Oh! tell me, is he not dead? I'm the most miserable maid in the
world if he is."
"He's alive, small thanks to you," responded Ben, who had somehow
arrived at a knowledge of the facts, while Rusha, who was milking,
buried her head in Daisy's side, and would not even look at her.
Patience felt in utter despair, and longed to misunderstand Stead's
signs to her to open the door. She tried to impress the need of
quiet, but Emlyn darted in, her hood pushed back, her hair flying,
her dress disordered, looking half wild, and dropping on the floor,
she crouched there with clasped hands, crying "Oh! oh! he looks like
death.
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