When she was going, Mrs.Hurd seemed to rouse a little, and held her by the skirt, saying incoherent things.
"Dear Mrs.Hurd," said Marcella, kneeling down beside her, "won't you let Ann go?
I am going to spend the night here, and take care of you and Willie." Mrs.Hurd gave a painful start.
"You're very good, miss," she said half-consciously, "very good, I'm sure.

But she's his own flesh and blood is Ann--his own flesh and blood.
Ann!" The two women clung together, the rough, ill-tempered sister-in-law muttering what soothing she could think of.

When she was gone, Minta Hurd turned her face to the back of the settle and moaned, her hands clenched under her breast.
Marcella went about her preparations for the night.

"She is extremely weak," Dr.Clarke had said; "the heart in such a state she may die of syncope on very small provocation.

If she is to spend the night in crying and exciting herself, it will go hard with her.