sick woman sometimes had, seemed to partake of the nature of devil possession. The last one, only three days before, had been provoked by Christopher’s complaint of some real or fancied ill-treatment from his aunt, and the latter had no mind to bring on another. She went over to the bed, and straightened the clothes.
“Sarah and I are going out to milk, Naomi. Eunice will stay with you. She can run for us if you feel another spell coming on.”
Naomi Holland looked up at her sister-in-law with something like malicious enjoyment.
“I ain’t going to have any more spells, Car'line Anne. I’m going to die to-night. But you needn’t hurry milking for that, at all. I'll take my time.”
She liked to see the alarm that came over the other woman’s face. It was richly worth while to scare Caroline Holland like that.
“Are you feeling any worse, Naomi?” asked the latter shakily. “If you are I’ll send for Charles to go for the doctor.”
“No, you won't. What good can the doctor do me? I don't want either his or Charles’ permission to die. You can go and milk at your ease. I won't die till you’re done — I won't deprive you of the pleasure of seeing me.”
Mrs. Holland shut her lips and went out of the room with a martyr-like expression. In some ways
