The poor fellow was entirely in the mists by that time,
shivering and burning and quite unconscious, saying over and over,
"She wouldn't stay; she wouldn't stay."

"'Lure her back,'" said Eldress Hannah, with a snort. "Poor boy!
It's good riddance for him."

But Eldress Hannah stayed, and Brother Nathan joined her,
and for many days the little community was shaken with real anxiety,
for they had all come to love the solitary, waiting husband.
Athalia, abashed, but still cherishing the dear insult of having
been tempted, took what little part Eldress allowed her in
the care of the sick man; but in the six or seven weeks of his
illness Brother Nathan and the Eldress were his devoted nurses,
and by-and-by a genuine friendship grew up between them.
Old Eldress Hannah's shrewd good-humor was as wholesome as a sound
winter apple, and Nathan had a gayety Lewis had never suspected.
The old man grew very confidential in those days of Lewis's convalescence;
he showed his simple heart with a generosity that made
the sick man's lip tighten once or twice and his eyes blur;--
Lewis came to know all about Sister Lydia; indeed, he knew more
than the old man knew himself. When the invalid grew stronger,
Nathan wrestled with him over the Prophecies, and Lewis studied them
and the other foundation-stones of the Shaker faith with a constantly
increasing anxiety. "Because," he said, with a nervous blink,
"if you ARE right--" But he left the sentence unfinished.
Once he said, with a feeble passion--for he was still very weak--"I
tell you, Nathan, it isn't human!" and then added, under his breath,
"but God knows whether that's not in its fa-vor."