"
The meeting was over, and they were just leaving the church, when:
"Please, sir, tell me where I can find the preacher or doctor--and
I've forgot which--maybe both. They frightened me so when they hurried
me off!" said a boy, running up to them.
"Here, my lad--what is it?"
"Mr. Preacher, please come with me. There is a young woman very
ill--maybe dying. They sent me for somebody, and I can't remember; but
please run, sir!"
"I will go. Excuse me, Miss Bland; father will take charge of you."
And he followed, with hasty steps, the running boy.
"Here, sir--this is the house. Go in, sir, please!"
"Now, my lad, run over to Dr. Lenord's office--he is in--and ask him
to come. So, one or the other of us will be the right one."
David Carlton entered, treading noiselessly along the passage, until
he had reached a door slightly open. Glancing in to be sure he was
right, he beheld lying--apparently almost dying--a young woman. Beside
the bed, kneeling with upraised head and clasped hands, was a
strangely familiar form. Then came forth a sweet voice, pleading to
the throne of Mercy for the sufferer. He gazed spellbound for a
moment. Then slowly and softly he retraced his steps to the door.
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