"
Confronted with her emergency, Lilly stood before that closed door,
beating all over with her silent little prayer:
"O God, help me! Help me, help her!"
Mrs. Schum was quite conscious.
"Lilly," she said, reaching out a thin old hand that was covered with
veins as round as cables, "I've been waiting."
"Here I am, dear."
"I think I'm done, Lilly. I--dream so much--of God."
"Why, you're better, dear!"
"No. I'm going. I wanted so to wait for my boy. The doctor, can't he
help me to wait, Lilly? Ask him to help me to wait. I keep thinking he's
over there somewhere--Harry--funny isn't it? Over there waiting. You've
heard no news, Lilly?"
In this moment more propitious than she dared hope Lilly leaned over.
"Yes, dear, there is news."
"Harry?" she said quickly and sharply, lifting her head.
"Yes, dear--Harry--is--over there--waiting."
"His Mamma-Annie's boy--they were all against him. He can't stay back
here alone--he needs me, doctor--help me to wait for him--"
"Listen, dear--Harry's gone."
"Where?"
"Why--over there--just as your intuition told you."
She pulled at the sheet with fingers as fleshless as the feet of a bird,
moving her lips, vainly at first, and suddenly jerked herself up with a
strength no doctor would have conceded her.
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