He looked at me as I spoke--his eyes glistened--he breathed a half smothered sigh, but attempted not to reply. He continued to doze at intervals throughout the day, but evidently grew weaker every hour--I quitted him not for a moment, even my nursery was forgotten. I sat, or knelt, at the bed's head, and, between his short and broken slumbers, administered cordial medicines. He seemed to take them with pleasure from my hand, and a mournful tenderness at times beamed in his eyes. I neither spake nor wept--my strength appeared equal to every trial. In the evening, starting from a troubled sleep, he fell into convulsions--I kept my station--our efforts were successful--he again revived. I supported the pillows on which his head reclined, sprinkled the bed cloaths, and bathed his temples, with hungary water, while I wiped from them the damps of death. A few tears at length forced their way, they fell upon his hand, which rested on the pillow--he kissed them off, and raised to mine his languid eyes, in which death was already painted. The blood forsaking the extremities, rushed wildly to my heart, a strong palpitation seized it, my fortitude had well nigh forsaken me. But I had been habituated to subdue my feelings, and should I suffer them to disturb the last moments of him, _who had taught me this painful lesson_? He made a sign for a cordial, an attendant offering one--he waved his hand and turned from her his face--I took it--held it to his lips, and he instantly drank it. Another strong emotion shook my nerves--once more I struggled and gained the victory. He spoke in feeble and interrupted periods--kneeling down, scarce daring to breathe, I listened. 'I have a son,' said he,--'I am dying--he will have no longer a parent--transfer to him a portion of--' 'I comprehend you--say no more--_he is mine_--I adopt him--where shall I find--?' He pointed to his cloaths;--'a pocket book'--said he, in accents still fainter. 'Enough!--I swear, in this awful moment, never to forsake him.' He raised my hand to his lips--a tender smile illumined his countenance --'Surely,' said he, 'I have sufficiently fulfilled the dictates of a rigid honour!--In these last moments--when every earthly tie is dissolving--when human institutions fade before my sight--I may, without a crime, tell you--_that I have loved you_.--Your tenderness early penetrated my heart--aware of its weakness--I sought to shun you--I imposed on myself those severe laws of which you causelessly complained.--Had my conduct been less rigid, I had been lost--I had been unjust to the bonds which I had voluntarily contracted; and which, therefore, had on me indispensible claims. I acted from good motives, but no doubt, was guilty of some errors--yet, my conflicts were, even, more cruel than yours--I had not only to contend against my own sensibility, but against yours also.--The fire which is pent up burns the fiercest!'--