"Oh, George! talk not so gloomily, so cruelly, this morning--your whole countenance contradicts your melancholy speech, and you are better--indeed you are;--you must be better."
"Yes, I am better, I am nearly well," returned the youth, pausing a moment, while a struggle of the most painful interest seemed to engross his thoughts. As it passed away, he drew his hand feebly across his clammy brow, and, smiling faintly, resumed his speech,--"on the brink of the grave, at a moment when all thoughts of me must be connected with the image of death, there can no longer be any necessity for silence. You have been kind to us, dear Miss Henley, as you are kind to all; but to me your sympathy has been trebly dear, for it has brought with it a consolation and pleasure that you but little imagine."
Miss Henley raised her tearful eyes from the floor to his wan features, that now appeared illumined with more than human fires, and her pale lips quivered, but her voice was inaudible.
"Yes, Charlotte, I may now speak without injustice, or the fear of being selfish: I have long loved you--how tenderly, how purely, none can ever know; but could I, with a certainty of my fate before my eyes, with the knowledge that my days were numbered, and that the sun of my life could never reach its meridian, woo you to my love, to make you miserable! No, dearest! your gentle heart will mourn the brother and the friend too much for its own peace; it needed not the sting of a stronger grief."
"George, George," sobbed the convulsed girl, "think not of me; speak not of me--if it can cheer you at such a moment to know how much you are valued by me, no cold reserve shall be found on my part."
The young man started, and fastened his eyes on her face with an indefinable look of delight mingled with sorrow.
"Charlotte!" he exclaimed, "do I hear aright? am I so miserable! am I so happy! repeat those words--quick--my eyes grow dim--my senses deceive me."
"Live, George Morton," said Charlotte firmly: "you are better--your whole face bespeaks it; and if the tender care of an affectionate wife can preserve your health, you shall long live a blessing to all who love you."
As Charlotte uttered, thus ingenuously, her pure attachment, the youth extended his hand towards her blindly. She gave him her own, which he drew to his heart, and folded to his bosom with a warm pressure for an instant, when his hold relaxed, his form dropping backward on the sofa, and in that attitude he expired without a struggle.