' Why
wouldn't 'Louise' come to him? It was so unkind of her--they had dug a
great pit, and were pushing him down into it--oh! why didn't she come and
save him? He should be saved if she would only come and take his hand.
"His cries became so pitiful that I could bear them no longer. His wife
had gone to attend a prayer-meeting, but the church was only in the next
street. Fortunately, the day-nurse had not left the house: I called her
in to watch him for a minute, and, slipping on my bonnet, ran across. I
told my errand to one of the vergers and he took me to her. She was
kneeling, but I could not wait. I pushed open the pew door, and, bending
down, whispered to her, 'Please come over at once; your husband is more
delirious than I quite care about, and you may be able to calm him.'
"She whispered back, without raising her head, 'I'll be over in a little
while. The meeting won't last much longer.'
"Her answer surprised and nettled me. 'You'll be acting more like a
Christian woman by coming home with me,' I said sharply, 'than by
stopping here. He keeps calling for you, and I can't get him to sleep.'
"She raised her head from her hands: 'Calling for me?' she asked, with a
slightly incredulous accent.
"'Yes,' I replied, 'it has been his one cry for the last hour: Where's
Louise, why doesn't Louise come to him.
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