human
Peace old woman, she replied calmly,
gpt
she continued, pointing to the body of Ella,
human
Shame, shame missis, observed the old woman, very much shocked at what appeared to her the insensibility of Mrs. Wentworth.
gpt
You musn't talk dat way, it don't do any good.
human
You know not what I mean, auntie, Mrs. Wentworth answered in a milder tone.
gpt
Why did I come here? Why did I bring my child ill and dying from a shelter, and carry her through the night air, until I found a home in your lonely cabin? Do you know why? she continued with bitterness.
human
It was because I was a beggar, and could not pay the demands of the rich.
gpt
Poh lady! ejaculated the old woman.
human
Whar is your husband.
gpt
My husband? she replied.
human
Ah! where is he? Oh, God! she continued wildly.
gpt
Where is he now while his child lies dead through destitution, and his wife feels the brand of the _thief_ imprinted upon her forehead? Why is he not here to succor the infant boy who yet remains, and who may soon follow his sister? Oh, God! Oh, God! that he should be far away, and I be here gazing on the dead body of my child--dead through my neglect to procure her proper medical attendance; dead through the destitution of her mother.
human
Nebber mind, missis, observed the old negro soothingly,
gpt
De chile is gone to heaben, whar it wont suffer any more.
human
Peace! exclaimed Mrs. Wentworth passionately.
gpt
Do not talk to me of Heaven. What has God done to aid me in my misery? Has he not suffered me to feel the pangs of hunger, to see my children deprived of bread, to permit me to stain my whole existence with a crime? The child is gone to Heaven. Aye! there her sinlessness and innocence might give her a welcome, and she may be happy, but the blank left in my heart, the darkness of my mind, the cheerless and unpropitious future that unveils itself before my aching eyes, can never be obliterated until I am laid in the grave beside her, and my spirit has winged its flight to the home where she now dwells.