The sun went down behind the Catskill leaving the mountains in
a bath of glorified mist; and I, strengthened and comforted,
left my door-step and went back to Molly. She lay as she had
lain, in what I might have supposed stupor; and perhaps it
was; but she had said there was light in the valley she was
going through. That was enough. She might speak no more; and
in effect she never did intelligibly; it did not matter. My
heart was full of songs of gladness for her; yes, for a moment
I almost stood up yonder, among the harpers harping with their
harps. Meanwhile I put the little room to rights; even as I
had tried to do when I was a little child. I succeeded better
now; and then I sat down to wait; there seemed nothing more to
be done. The evening shades closed in; I wondered if I were to
spend the night alone with the dying woman; but I was not
afraid. I think I have done with fear in this world. Even as
the thought passed me, Dr. Sandford came in.
He had not been able to get any help, and he came to take my
place, that I might go home. It ended in our watching the
night through together; for of course I would not leave the
cottage. It was a night of strange and new peace to me; peace
that I had not known for many months. Molly was slowly passing
away; not seeming to suffer much, needing little care; she was
past it; and Dr. Sandford bestowed his attention upon me. He
sent for refreshments; had a fire built, for the June night
was chill; and watched me and waited upon me. And I let him,
for I knew it gave him pleasure.
"How do you do?" he said to me one time when the night was far
spent.
"Why do you ask that, Dr. Sandford?"
"Must you know, before you tell me?"
"No, not at all; I was only curious, because I know you always
have a reason for your questions."
"Most people have, I believe."
"Yes, curiosity; but it is knowledge, not ignorance, that
prompts your inquiries, Dr. Sandford."
He smiled at that; one of the pleasant smiles I used to know
so well. I saw them rarely now. It made me a little sad, for I
knew Dr. Sandford's life had suffered an eclipse, as well as
mine.
"I have not so much knowledge that I do not desire more," he
said.
"Yes, I know. I am very well, thank you."
"You were not very well when I brought you here."
"No. I was well in body."
"You are better?"
"Yes."
"If it were not impertinent, I would like to ask more."
"It is not impertinent. You may ask."