` We can not save him ! Oh , if your father was here -- look at him , the poor little fellow ! I know not what to do . ' `` I looked at Jims and I thought he was dying . Susan was holding him up in his crib to give him a better chance for breath , but it did n't seem as if he could breathe at all . My little war-baby , with his dear ways and sweet roguish face , was choking to death before my very eyes , and I could n't help him . I threw down the hot poultice I had ready in despair . Of what use was it ? Jims was dying , and it was my fault -- I had n't been careful enough ! `` Just then -- at eleven o'clock at night -- the door bell rang . Such a ring -- it pealed all over the house above the roar of the storm . Susan could n't go -- she dared not lay Jims down -- so I rushed downstairs . In the hall I paused just a minute -- I was suddenly overcome by an absurd dread . I thought of a weird story Gertrude had told me once . An aunt of hers was alone in a house one night with her sick husband . She heard a knock at the door . And when she went and opened it there was nothing there -- nothing that could be seen , at least . But when she opened the door a deadly cold wind blew in and seemed to sweep past her right up the stairs , although it was a calm , warm summer night outside . Immediately she heard a cry . She ran upstairs -- and her husband was dead .
And she always believed , so XXXXX said , that when she opened that door she let Death in .
Gertrude Jims Susan choking minute night right ring storm ways