"And so the bright summer days sped fleetly on; and now autumn had come, with its gorgeous beauty, and no one had courage to speak of breaking up our happy circle; but ah! there came _one_, with stealthy steps, _who had no such scruples_!

"The merry shout of the children is hushed in the wide halls; anxious faces are grouped on the piazza; for in a darkened room above, lies Mary's princely husband, delirious with fever! The smile has fled her lip, the rose her cheek; her eye is humid with tears _that never fall_; day and night without sleep or food, she keeps untiring vigil; while (unconscious of her presence,) in tones that pierce her heart, he calls unceasingly for 'my wife!' She puts back the tangled masses of dark hair from his heated forehead; she passes her little hand coaxingly over it; she hears not the advice of the physician, 'to procure a nurse.' She fears not to be alone with him when he is raving. She tells no one that on her delicate breast she bears the impress of an (almost) _deadly_ blow from the hand that was never before raised but to _bless her_. And now the physician, who has come _once, twice, thrice_ a day from the city, tells the anxious groups in the hall that his patient _must die_; not one dare break the news to the wretched Mary! There is little need! She has gazed in their faces with a keen, agonized earnestness; she has asked no questions, but she knows it all; and her heart is dying within her! No entreaty, no persuasion can draw her from the bedside.

The Life and Beauties of Fanny Fern — Part 7

"The old doctor, with tearful eyes, passes his arm round her trembling form, and says, 'My child, you _cannot_ meet the _next hour_--leave him with me.'

The Life and Beauties of Fanny Fern — Part 7

"A mournful shake of the head is his only answer, as she takes her seat again by her husband, and presses her forehead low, upon that clammy hand; praying God that _she_ may die with him.

The Life and Beauties of Fanny Fern — Part 7

"An hour of TIME--an ETERNITY of agony has passed! A fainting, unresisting form is borne from that chamber of _Death_.

"Beautiful as a piece of rare sculpture, lies the husband!--no trace of pain on lip or brow; the long, heavy lashes lie upon the marble cheek; the raven locks, damp with the dew of death, cluster profusely round the noble forehead; those chiseled lips are gloriously beautiful in their repose! Tears fall like rain from kindly eyes; servants pass to and fro, respectfully, with measured tread; kind hands are busy with vain attempts to restore animation to the fainting wife. Oh that _bitter_, BITTER waking! (for she _does_ wake. God pity her!)