"But, my dear madam, why may I not gaze upon the countenance that you know is very dear to me? And this setting sun--how glorious! Do you know that, at his rising and his setting, I have often thought of you? Pray come to the window, and look upon it before it is quite hid among the trees." "Ralph, by all the love that I bore your mother, by the affection that I bear to you, do not talk to me of setting suns! I dread to look upon them. You ask me to rise--oh, son of my best friend--know, that I cannot--without assistance--without danger--I am on my sick-couch--on my dying bed--they tell me--me--me, whom you just now so praised for improved beauty, that my days are numbered--but, I believe them not-- no--no--no--but hush, softly!--I may not agitate myself--you, my sweet boy, have surely come to me the blessed messenger of health--your finger shall turn back the hand upon the dial, and years, whole years of happiness, shall be yours and mine." "Inscrutable Ruler of heaven!" I exclaimed, "it is impossible! You are but trying my affection--you do but wish to witness the depth of my agony--you would prove me--but this is with a torture too cruel. Say-- oh, say--my dear Mrs Causand, that you are trifling with me--you--you are now the only friend that I have upon earth!" "These emotions, my dear boy, will slay me outright--the monster is now, even now, grappling with me--give me your hand." She took it, and placed it over the region of her heart. The shock it gave me was electric--that heart trembled beneath her bosom rapidly as flutter the wings of the dying bird--then paused--then went on. I looked into her face, and saw again the instant and momentary pallor, that had surprised me so much on my first entrance. The paroxysm was as short as it was violent, and her features again returned to their usual placidity of majestic beauty. "You know it all now, Ralph--the least motion sets my heart in this unaccountable fury--and--alas, alas! every attack is more acute than the last. They tell me that I am dying--I cannot believe it. I cannot even comprehend it. I have none of the symptoms of death upon me. Everything around me breathes of health and happiness--you alone were wanting to complete the scene--you are here--no--no, I will not die. Had my hair whitened, my form bowed, my complexion withered--why, then-- I might have been reconciled--but, no--it is impossible--no--no--Ralph, I am _not_ dying." "Fervently do I pray God that you are not. It also seems to me impossible--but still, the youngest of us cannot always escape--hoping, trusting, relying on the best, we should be prepared for the worst." "But I am not prepared," she exclaimed, with a fierce energy that breathed defiance; and then, relapsing into a profound melancholy, she mournfully continued--"and I cannot prepare myself." "Have you spoken to a clergyman?" said I, not knowing exactly what else to say. "Is not this some book of divine consolation?"