I was filled with self-reproach, for I should have been with her months before.
In a few days my mother-in-law and one of her daughters came to see how long I proposed to stay, why I had left James with the goods, and when I would go and take charge of them.

They had had a letter from him, and he was in great trouble.

She was gentle and grave--inquired minutely about our nursing, but thought it expensive--dwelt at length on the folly of spending time and money in caring for the sick when recovery was impossible.

Mother could not see them, and they were offended, for they proposed helping to take care of her, that I might return to my duty.
Some time after the visit of my mother-in-law, her son-in-law--who was a class-leader and a man of prominence in the community--came with solemn aspect, took my hand, sighed, and said: "I heard you had left James with the goods." Here he sighed again, wagged his head, and added: "But I couldn't believe it!" and without another word turned and walked away.
They chose to regard mother's illness as a personal grievance.

"The way of the transgressor is hard;" and she, having sinned against the saints, must bear her iniquity, and thus suffer the just reward of her deeds.
I had frequent letters from my husband, and he was waiting on the wharf, watching every boat for my appearance.