Graham's Magazine Vol XXXII. No. 5. May 1848Various
General
Graham's Magazine Vol XXXII. No. 5. May 1848
Various
Literature -- Periodicals; Literature, Modern -- 19th century -- Periodicals
One morning I heard that she had been seized with a dangerous illness,
and I hastily obeyed the summons which I had received from her mother.
What a commotion was that bustling family thrown into. The physicians
pronounced her sickness a brain fever. When I reached her bedside, she
was raving, and her beautiful eyes gazed vacantly on the nearest and
dearest of her friends; even the mother that bore her hung over her
unrecognized. She had retired as usual the night before, her mother
said, apparently well; but at midnight the family had been awakened by
her shrieks and cries. I watched beside her bed weepingly, for I never
hoped to see her again in health. The dark wing of Death I felt
already drooping over her; and with anguish I listened to the snatches
of poetry and song that fell in fragments from her lips. As I was
placing a cup on a table in her room, during the day, my eye caught
sight of two cards tied with white satin ribbon, and on them I read
the names of Mr. Ralph Preston and his bride, with these words hastily
written in pencil in Mr. Preston's handwriting on the larger of the
two cards,
"You will, my lovely friend, rejoice in my happiness, I am sure. Short
was our acquaintance, but with the hope that I am not forgotten, I
hasten to inform you that the cheerless life-path you deigned to
brighten for a few short hours by your kind smiles, is now rendered
calm and joyous. I am at last married to the one I have secretly
worshiped for years. We both pray you may know happiness exquisite as
ours."
How quickly I divined the cause of my friend's illness; no longer was
it a mystery to me as it was to her family. Those silent cards had
been the messengers of evil, and had been mute witnesses of the bitter
anguish that had wrung her young heart. There, in the silent night,
had she struggled with her agony; and I fancied I heard her calling on
Heaven for strength--that Heaven to which we only appeal when
overwhelmed by the sad whirldwind caused by our errors or passions.
But strength had been denied, and her spirit sank fainting.
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