"I could only run out. A great animal--truly, Frank's black horse--
stood trembling, panting, snorting before the door; a man held it
Frank, as I thought.
"'What is the matter?' I demanded. Thomas, my own servant, answered by
saying sharply, 'Go into the house, madam.' And then calling to
another servant, who came hurrying from the kitchen as if summoned by
some instinct, 'Ruth, take missis into the house directly.' But I was
kneeling down in the snow, beside something that lay there--something
that I had seen dragged along the ground--something that sighed, that
groaned on my breast, as I lifted and drew it to ms. He was not dead;
he was not quite unconscious. I had him carried in; I refused to be
ordered about and thrust from him. I was quite collected enough, not
only to be my own mistress but the mistress of others. They had begun
by trying to treat me like a child, as they always do with people
struck by God's hand; but I gave place to none except the surgeon; and
when he had done what he could, I took my dying Frank to myself. He
had strength to fold me in his arms; he had power to speak my name; he
heard me as I prayed over him very softly; he felt me as I tenderly
and fondly comforted him.
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