In Name Only by Ellen Gable

is.”
    “I won’t move
from this spot.”  He assisted Caroline down onto the street and she rushed off
without further words.
    A gust of wind
caused her hat to slip and her hand flew up to keep it on her head.
    She reached the
last house on the right, a brownstone with a horse tethered to the front
hitching post and a young nun dressed in a brown habit standing next to it. 
Caroline could faintly hear dogs barking from behind the house and high-pitched
moaning from the open upstairs window.
    “Where is the
girl who’s laboring?” she asked the nun.
    “Are you a
relation?”
    “She doesn’t have
any family. I am Selly’s friend.  She asked me to be present when her time
came.”
    “In the bedroom
upstairs, first door to the left, Miss.”
    She picked up her
skirts and climbed the stairs quickly, taking two at a time.  She heard a
scream, then followed the guttural sounds. 
    Caroline knocked
on the door.  It was quickly opened by the Mother Superior, also in brown
habit.  She was a tall, imposing woman who seemed to take up the entire
doorway.
    “Miss Martin,
please do come in.”
    Caroline took off
her hat and lay it on the nearby desk.  The middle-aged Mother Superior and an
even older midwife were the only people in the room with Selly.
    The nun leaned in
close to Caroline. “Selly’s having a dreadful time.”
    “This is too
early,” Caroline whispered to Mother Superior.
    “I know, dear. 
Here, sit by her head.” Caroline sat at a chair beside Selly’s bed. 
    Selly’s long
black hair was wet and her face was drenched with sweat.  “Selly, it’s me,
Caroline. I’m here.”
    The young
servant’s eyes were sunken but in a minute were wide as the next pain gripped
her small body.  Caroline quickly removed her gloves and spoke quietly into
Selly’s ear.  “Hold on to my hand and squeeze as hard as you need to.”  Obeying
the order, Selly squeezed Caroline’s hand so hard, her nails dug into Caroline’s
palms. “Yes, that’s good, Selly. You’re doing a fine job.  Your baby will be
born soon.”
    Caroline glanced
at the midwife who was whispering something to the nun. The midwife was a large
woman, not so much tall but round, her salt and pepper hair pulled up. Sister
then quietly said in Caroline’s ear, “She thinks the baby is likely dead.”
    Caroline held
Selly’s hand as the girl endured another agonizing contraction.  In between
pains, Caroline wiped Selly’s brow with a cool cloth.  As each pain subsided, Selly
gradually softened her grip. 
    After an hour or
so, Caroline watched as the midwife again spoke with Mother Superior, and she
studied both women to decipher what was being said.  The midwife was shaking
her head and the nun blessed herself.
    Selly clung onto
Caroline’s hand and within minutes, pushed the child free of her body. Caroline
watched the midwife smack the lifeless infant, which she could see was a girl,
in an attempt to revive her.
    Selly looked up,
her eyelids heavy, and tried to smile.  “Miss Caroline, I’m so glad you came,”
her voice just above a whisper.
    “I told you I
would.”
    Seconds turned
into minutes as the midwife rubbed the baby, but after two or three moments,
she looked up at Mother Superior and shook her head.  “Born too soon,” the
midwife said.
    “I don’t feel so
good.”  An ever increasing puddle of blood was seeping out from under Selly’s
bottom.
    “Selly’s
bleeding!” the midwife yelled.
    The midwife’s
round fists began to frantically knead Selly’s abdomen, pushing, punching the
servant’s nearly flat stomach.  “Come on, dearie,” she urged.  Selly’s hand
became limp in Caroline’s grasp.  Thinking that the girl had fainted, Caroline
reached for a cloth and began wiping Selly’s forehead.  As she sponged her
face, Caroline noticed that Selly seemed frightfully still.  Moving closer to
her head, she exclaimed,  “She’s not breathing.  Please, please, help her!”
    The