'He will die'--exclaimed I--'die in my house--fatal accident! Oh, Augustus! _too tenderly beloved_, thou wert fated to be the ruin of my peace! But, whatever may be the consequences, I will perform, for thee, the last tender offices.--I will not desert my duty!' The nurse brought to me my infant, it smiled in my face--I pressed it to my bosom--I wept over it.--How could I, from that agitated bosom, give it a pernicious sustenance? CHAPTER XXI In the evening, I repaired to the chamber of Mr Harley, I sat by his bed-side, I gazed mournfully on his flushed, but vacant countenance--I took his hand--it was dry and burning--the pulse beat rapidly, but irregularly, beneath my trembling fingers. His lips moved, he seemed to speak, though inarticulately--but sometimes raising his voice, I could distinguish a few incoherent sentences. In casting my eyes round the room, I observed the scattered articles of his dress, his cloaths were black, and in his hat, which lay on the ground, I discovered a crape hatband. I continued to hold his burning hand in mine. 'She died,'--said he--'and my unkindness killed her--unhappy Emma--thy heart was too tender!'--I shuddered--'No, no,'--continued he, after a few minutes pause, 'she is not married--she dared not give her hand without her heart, _and that heart was only mine_!' he added something more, in a lower tone, which I was unable to distinguish. Overcome by a variety of sensations, I sunk into a chair, and, throwing my handkerchief over my face, indulged my tears. Sometimes he mentioned his wife, sometimes his mother.--At length, speaking rapidly, in a raised voice--'My son,'--said he, 'thou hast no mother--but Emma will be a mother to thee--she will love thee--_she loved thy father_--her heart was the residence of gentle affections--yet, I pierced that heart!' I suspected, that a confused recollection of having seen me on recovering from the state of insensibility, in which he had been brought, after the accident, into our house, had probably recalled the associations formerly connected with this idea. The scene became too affecting: I rushed from the apartment. All the past impressions seemed to revive in my mind--my thoughts, with fatal mechanism, ran back into their old and accustomed channels.--For a moment, conjugal, maternal, duties, every consideration _but for one object_ faded from before me! In a few hours, Mr Lucas returned with the physician;--I attended them to the chamber, heedfully watching their looks. The fever still continued very high, accompanied with a labouring, unsteady pulse, a difficult respiration, and strong palpitations of the heart. The doctor said little, but I discovered his apprehensions in his countenance. The patient appeared particularly restless and uneasy, and the delirium still continued. On quitting the apartment, I earnestly conjured the gentlemen to tell me their opinion of the case. They both expressed an apprehension of internal injury.