"Leave me, I wish to be alone." Then seeing they hesitated to leave her, she repeated with a sudden sharpness of voice and gesture of dismissal, which long remained in the memories of those who witnessed it, so expressively did it seem to reject all human aid, or sympathy: "I wish to be alone!" They left her; and sinking on her knees, by the bed, on which lay the form of him she loved so well, she gave herself up to the first burst of real grief, that had ever rent her heart, with its wild energy; before, though there was fear, there was hope, though every nerve in her delicate frame trembled and shrunk from the expectation of trials, the nobler spirit dared to contemplate--there was an object for which to bear them all--an end to be attained. Now she was alone! with none to live for--none to whom, and for whom she was a world! He was gone--the kind, the gentle, loving friend; and there lay the lifeless image of him, whom she had lost, the stately prison-house, not unworthy its immortal captive, now free, and amid eternal bliss, perhaps near her, compassionating the sorrow which his already Heaven taught prescience showed was for her good! and should her life be henceforth alone? what was to become of her! No longer any reason to hush regret, lest it might cloud her brow, to catch gladly at hope, the most uncertain, that she might reflect something of its glad beam! "Yet I would not recall him, if I could, Oh, God!" was the only ejaculation that escaped her lips, as her soul lay prostrate beneath the heavy weight thus laid upon it. The past, the present, all mingled in one strange chaos, by the pressure of a mighty grief. And the moment that her grandfather blessed her (scarce four hours ago) was already fixed amid the great events of the heart, ages back; for sometimes, when thoroughly roused, and freed an instant from its fetters, the soul becomes in capacity a reflex of its great original, and in its sight, also, one day is as a thousand years. But with the exhaustion of spirit natural to excitement so strong, came the wish for human sympathy, without which none can exist; and groping her way to the door, through the darkness, perceived for the first time, she opened it, and was caught in the arms of Mrs. O'Toole, who, with a silent, watchful love, equalled only by Cormac's, waited, humbly ready, until that love was wanted. "You are all that is left me," sobbed the poor girl, as nurse held her in her arms; and they were the only words that escaped her lips, for the long hours through which she wept, in unutterable grief. * * * * * She obeyed all nurse's suggestions with the simplicity of a child, incapable of thinking for itself; and, at last, that faithful friend had the satisfaction of seeing her gradually sink into a sleep, still and heavy, but interrupted with deep sighs, which, at intervals, unclosed the lovely lips that seemed only formed for joyous smiles.