I do not know just how
she got on. I was surprised to hear finally that she was dead --
had been dead since Christmas. It had never occurred to me
that she would die. She had been dying so long that I had almost come
to regard her as immortal, and as a necessary part of the old county
and its associations.
I fell in some time afterwards with a young doctor from the old county,
who, I found, had attended her, and I made some inquiries about her.
He told me that she died Christmas night. She came to his house
on her old mare, in the rain and snow the night before, to get him to go
to see someone, some "friend" of hers who was sick. He said she had more
sick friends than anyone he ever knew; he told her that he was sick himself
and could not go; but she was so importunate that he promised to go
next morning (she was always very worrying). He said she was wet
and shivering then (she never had any idea about really protecting herself),
and that she appeared to have a wretched cold. She had been riding all day
seeing about a Christmas-tree for the poor children. He urged her to stop
and spend the night, but she insisted that she must go on, though it was
nearly dark and raining hard, and the roads would have mired a cat
(she was always self-willed).
Pages:
27
28
29
30
31
32
33
34
35
36
37
38
39
40
41
42
43
44
45
46
47
48
49
50
51