Chapter 25: "Never was there a more agreeable wife."
The morning of July 4 began just like any other for the residents of Hindhead, Surrey. For the residents and guests at Undershaw, however, it was frighteningly different.
It was half-past ten. Arthur was with Louise. James, Mary, Richard, and Kingsley were in the parlor. Charlotte was in bed. It was unusual for her to be asleep so late in the morning, but she had been unusually tired the previous night.
About an hour earlier, Louise had suddenly taken a turn for the worst. They all sat nervously, unable to speak, waiting for news. Finally, Arthur emerged. Richard, Mary, and Kingsley stood. Arthur nodded. The three of them went up the stairs. James stood as well.
"Should I wake Charlotte?"
"Please."
"Of course." James followed Arthur upstairs and turned down the hall. He went into the guest bedroom and found Charlotte still fast asleep. He didn't stop to think how odd it was that she hadn't moved when he first entered the room. All he could think about was the fact that Louise was dying.
"Louise is dying," he said as soon as Charlotte opened her eyes. While she struggled to process this information, James went to the closet and pulled out a white blouse and indigo skirt. "Here." He thrust them at her and left the room.
When Charlotte finally staggered into Louise's bedroom, it appeared that James and Louise were alone. Then there was a small cough from a corner near the door, and Arthur was suddenly visible through the shadows in the dim room.
Louise turned her head. "Charlotte, I want to talk to you." When Charlotte was seated next to her husband, Louise looked sternly from one to the other.
"I just wanted to remind both of you how lucky you are to have each other. I hope that you always remember that, and value each other for as much time as you are given." She closed her eyes. "Arthur."
He vaulted out of his corner and took his wife's hand. A few tense moments passed before Charlotte whispered, "She's gone, Arthur."
His head dropped. He moaned quietly and said, "Never was there a more agreeable wife, never a woman closer to my heart."
On July 4, 1906, Louise Doyle died, after finally losing her thirteen-year battle with tuberculosis.