long-faded cheek; she beheld the unearthly light of his beautiful eye,
as he pressed his dying lips to mine, and exclaimed, 'Mother, dear
mother, the last hour has come!' It was indeed an hour of anguish. Its
effect upon her youthful mind was as lasting as her life. The sudden
change from life and animation to the still unconsciousness of death,
for a time almost paralyzed her. The first thing that aroused her to a
sense of what was going on about her, was the thought of my
bereavement, and a conviction that it was her province to console me."
But Mrs. Davidson soon presents a sadder picture: "My own weak frame
was unable longer to sustain the effects of long watching and deep
grief. I had not only lost my lovely boy, but I felt a strong
conviction that I must soon resign my Margaret. Although she still
persisted in the belief that she was well, the irritating cough, the
hectic flush, the hurried beating of the heart, and the drenching
night perspirations, confirmed me in this belief, and I sank under
this accumulated weight of affliction. For three weeks I hovered on
the borders of the grave, and, when I arose from this bed of pain, it
was to witness the rupture of a blood-vessel in her lungs, caused by
exertions to suppress a cough. I was compelled to conceal every
appearance of alarm, lest agitation of her mind should produce fatal
consequences. As I seated myself by her, she raised her speaking eyes
to mine with a mournful, inquiring gaze, and, as she read the anguish
which I could not conceal, she turned away with a look of despair."
There no longer remained room for hope, and all that remained to be
done was to smooth the pathway to the grave.

Although Margaret endeavored to persuade herself that she was well,
yet, from the change that took place in her habits in the autumn of
1836, it is evident that she knew her real situation. In compliance
with her mother's oft-repeated advice, she gave up her studies, and
sought by light reading and trivial employments to "kill time." Of the
struggles which it cost her thus to pass six months, the following
incident, as related by her mother, will inform us: "She was seated
one day by my side, weary and restless, scarcely knowing what to do
with herself, when, marking, the traces of grief upon my face, she
threw her arms about my neck, and, kissing me, exclaimed, 'My dear,
dear mother!' 'What is it affects you now, my child?' 'O, I know you
are longing for something from m