Victor uttered these words with so much fervor and emotion that I was stirred to the depths of my soul. A complete change took place within me which I attributed to my dear husband’s prayers. My eyes, hitherto tearless, now overflowed. My anger all at once disappeared. A profound sadness alone remained, mingled with resignation.... Victor’s life continued in danger some days longer. Then—oh! what happiness!—when I had made the sacrifice and bowed submissively to the divine will, the physician all at once revived my hopes. To comprehend the joy with which my heart overflowed at hearing that perhaps my husband might be restored to life, you must, like me, pass through long hours of bitterness in which you repeat, with your eyes fastened on your loved one: “A few hours, and I shall behold him no more!” A week after, Victor was convalescent. CHAPTER VII. A PROVIDENTIAL EVENT. Victor and I then entered upon a singular life of which I think there are but few instances. I felt from the first that his convalescence was deceptive, and the physician secretly told him so. We both felt that God allowed us to pass a few more months together, but no longer. The disease was checked, but it still hung about my dear one. It assumed a new form, and changed into a slow malady that was surely accomplishing its work. As frequently happens in such complaints, Victor was but partially cured of inflammation of the lungs, and now became consumptive. A great poet says that no language, however perfect, can express all the thoughts, all the emotions, that spring up in the soul.[35] This is true. I have often felt it, and now realize it more than ever. Ten months elapsed between Victor’s amelioration and his death—months memorable for great suffering, but which have left me many delightful, though melancholy, remembrances. I wish I could impart these recollections to you. I hardly dare attempt it, so conscious am I of my inability to do them justice.