Just before noon, on the second day, Mrs. Sherwin rallied a little under the stimulants administered to her, and asked to see her husband alone.  Both her words and manner gave the lie to his assertion that her faculties were impaired—­it was observed by all her attendants, that whenever she had strength to speak, her speech never wandered in the slightest degree.  Her husband quitted her room more fretfully uneasy, more sullenly suspicious of the words and looks of those about him than ever—­went instantly to seek his daughter—­and sent her in alone to her mother’s bedside.  In a few minutes, she hurriedly came out again, pale, and violently agitated; and was heard to say, that she had been spoken to so unnaturally, and so shockingly, that she could not, and would not, enter that room again until her mother was better.  Better! the father and daughter were both agreed in that; both agreed that she was not dying, but only out of her mind.

During the afternoon, the doctors ordered that Mrs. Sherwin should not be allowed to see her husband or her child again, without their permission.  There was little need of taking such a precaution to preserve the tranquillity of her last moments.  As the day began to decline, she sank again into insensibility:  her life was just not death, and that was all.  She lingered on in this quiet way, with her eyes peacefully closed, and her breathing so gentle as to be quite inaudible, until late in the evening.  Just as it grew quite dark, and the candle was lit in the sick room, the servant who was helping to watch by her, drew aside the curtain to look at her mistress; and saw that, though her eyes were still closed, she was smiling.  The girl turned round, and beckoned to the nurse to come to the bedside.  When they lifted the curtains again to look at her, she was dead.

* * * * *

Let me return to the day of my last visit to North Villa.  More remains to be recorded, before my narrative can advance to the morrow.

After the door had closed, and I knew that I had looked my last on Mrs. Sherwin in this world, I remained a few minutes alone in the room, until I had steadied my mind sufficiently to go out again into the streets.  As I walked down the garden-path to the gate, the servant whom I had seen on my entrance, ran after me, and eagerly entreated that I would wait one moment and speak to her.

When I stopped and looked at the girl, she burst into tears.  “I’m afraid I’ve been doing wrong, Sir,” she sobbed out, “and at this dreadful time too, when my poor mistress is dying!  If you please, Sir, I must tell you about it!”

I gave her a little time to compose herself; and then asked what she had to say.

“I think you must have seen a man leaving a letter with me, Sir,” she continued, “just when you came up to the door, a little while ago?”

“Yes:  I saw him.”