She
felt the need of further self-abnegation; she must crucify body and
spirit to complete the penance.
With the calmness, even exultation, of a martyr she made her
preparations. There were wishes to be expressed and letters to be
written.
One of these letters reached Faith as she sat with her mother early one
evening; the writing so faint and uneven that she could hardly decipher
it.
"Oh, mother! mother!" she cried as she perused it. "Quick! get on your
hat and come with me! The letter is from Maggie--she is sick--or dying!"
As they hurried from the house Mr. Watkins joined them. In five minutes
they were in a carriage driving swiftly toward Maggie's address.
As Faith opened the door leading to Maggie's rooms she came upon a scene
that nearly paralyzed her senses.
Poor Maggie was half lying and half sitting upon a couch, her husband
supporting her tenderly while Miss Fairbanks stood by administering a
cordial. There was another person in the room whom Faith knew at once to
be a physician, but she had eyes nor ears for no one but Maggie.
"Oh, you poor, dear child! What has happened?" she asked quickly as she
went over and knelt by the side of the poor creature.
"I thought you would come," whispered Maggie faintly.
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