It really transformed her. I have since then marvelled at the change and have felt an admiration for her perfect beauty. Then I felt nothing. I only had a desire to watch her. I watched her eat and wondered at her appetite. I listened to her light talk and marvelled at her happiness. I gazed at her while she slept, amazed, almost, at her evident sense of security. Why did nothing warn her? I waited and watched for some sign that would show that instinct felt the approaching end. There was no sign. The last night, I leaned on my elbow and watched her sleep. She looked so perfect! Her soft, dimpled arms thrown above her head, her pretty face in a nest of golden hair, her straight black brows, her long, black lashes resting lightly on her pink cheeks, and all to become nothing--nothing. To-morrow night it would be over; this was her last night. Impulsively I leaned over her and whispered “Lucille! Lucille!” but she merely opened her great blue eyes, and giving me a little smile, as innocent and sweet as a babies, moved with a sigh of perfect content close to my arm, which rested on the pillow, and so went to sleep again. I lay down and tried to still the heavy, painful beating of my heart. I was very weary, but I could not sleep. At breakfast something kept saying, “Her last! her last!” and it gratified me to see her eat. At luncheon she complained of no appetite, yet I almost compelled her to eat, while I ate nothing. During the day I told my servant to take a holiday, that I would be out of town and he could have several days to spend as he wished. Rid of him, I ordered a dinner fit for a wedding feast; still I could not eat. Lucille ate and I helped her joyfully. I had a desire to see her happy. I have thought the jailer who feasts the condemned prisoner an hour before the execution must feel as I felt this day. Late in the evening I laid her new garments, the finery that so delighted her, out on the bed. I laughed when I did it, and then I sat down and watched her dress. She was as happy as a child. She put on one thing after the other, surveying each addition in the mirror with little cries of delight. I laced her _Suéde_ shoes and helped fasten her dress and buttoned her gloves. When all was done I wrapped her in a gray travelling cloak and hid her pretty face under a thick veil. I had told her we would take the midnight train for Buffalo, where we would be married, and remain at Niagara for a few days before our return to New York. She trusted me in everything, and asked me if she could increase her wardrobe before the time for our return. We were to start early enough to permit us to take a drive before going to the station. Lucille had been confined so long in the house that she welcomed this arrangement, and she was very eager and nervous to start.