He drew her to him as he spoke, and passing his arm round her, pressed her to his heart.  A long time Florence hid her head on his shoulder, as if struggling with her emotion, and then a heavy sob relieved her troubled heart.  Closer he clasped her to him, and, laying his cheek on hers, murmured: 

“My own darling Florence, forgive me, if I misjudged you; tell me that you will not remember my words—­that this hour shall be to us a painful dream,”

She withdrew from his embrace, and, lifting her head, replied: 

“I was wrong to doubt your love, or believe that you would think long of my weakness; but I am innocent of the charge of dissimulation, and never let us recur to the past”

She held out her hand, and clasping it in his, Mr. Stewart led her away.

An hour later Mary lay with closed eyes, too weary, from overexcitement, even to look about her.  All had left the room, and a dim light from the hearth just faintly lighted the large, comfortless apartment.  With noiseless step Dr. Bryant entered, and seating himself in the vacant chair, near Mary’s sofa, bent forward that he might look on the wan face of the sufferer.  His heart ached as he noted the painful alteration of the last week, and gently and softly he took one of the thin white hands between his own.  It was cold and damp, and, while he pressed it, the dark blue eyes rested earnestly on his face.

“I hoped you were sleeping, did I wake you?” and he laid the hand back, as she strove to withdraw it.

“No, I have not slept since morning.”

“Oh!  I am troubled at your constant suffering; is there anything I can do for you?”

“No, thank you, Doctor, I wish nothing.”

“All my arrangements are completed, and to-morrow I return to your home.  Can I deliver any message, or execute any commission?”

For a moment, Mary closed her eyes, then replied in a low voice: 

“If you should see Inez, tell her to remember my gift at parting, and thank her, in my name, for her many, many kindnesses.”  She paused, as if gathering courage to say something more.

“And tell her, too, that ere many hours I shall be at rest.  Tell her I have no fear, nay more, that I have great hope, and that heaven is opening for me.  Let her prepare to join me, where there is no sorrow nor parting.”

There was a silence, as if each were communing with their own hearts.

“You go to-morrow, Dr. Bryant?  Then you will not stay to see me die?  I am failing fast, and when you return, I shall have gone to that bourne whence no traveler comes back to tell the tale.  Let me thank you now, for your unvarying kindness; many have been your services, and a brother’s care has ever followed me.  Thank you; I appreciate your kindness, and earnest and heartfelt is my prayer that you may be very happy and blest on earth; and when you, too, come to die, may your end be like mine—­free from all fear, and may hope and joy attend your last moments!”