The doctor, the vicar's own doctor, had seen and examined Emma Smith,
and had given her but another year to live. He had not told her
that, but he had warned her very gravely that she was in a very bad
state of health, and that he would not answer for the consequences,
if she did not obey him; and something in his voice or manner had
stopped her peevish complainings, and set her thinking seriously.
The doctor strongly urged that she should go to the workhouse
infirmary. "She will be well nursed and looked after there," he
said, "and she will be provided with all she requires," but she
herself showed such violent opposition that at last, in fear for her
health, they ceased to press it. Had they done so, she would surely
have run away. At the same time she had no other home, no means, and
what powers she had had of earning any were fast failing her.
"I thought you'd be able to help me, now you'm getting on so well,"
she said to Huldah. "We fed and clothed and did everything for you,
and now's your chance of returning some of it." Then her mood
changed, and she wept and moaned, and clung to the girl passionately.
"Don't you leave me!" she pleaded, hysterically; "don't you go and
turn your back on me, too. You was mine before you was hers,"
nodding her head towards Mrs.
Pages:
114
115
116
117
118
119
120
121
122
123
124
125
126
127
128
129
130
131
132
133
134
135
136
137
138