se few moments of unconscious
existence!'

At the touch of the water it gave a little cry, which Sarah heard with a
start and glance of infinite satisfaction.

She returned to the chamber, where the same deathly stillness prevailed;
the husband, the medical men, the nurse, all in their several positions,
as if they had neither moved nor looked from the insensible, scarcely
breathing figure.

The infant again gave a feeble sound, and once more the white features
moved, the eyes opened, and a voice said, so faintly, that Arthur, as he
hung over her, alone could hear it, 'My baby! O, let me see it!'

'Bring the child,' and at the sound of those words the gleam of life
spread over her face more completely.

He could not move from her side, and Sarah placed the little creature
upon his broad hand. He held it close to her. 'Our baby!' again she
murmured, and tried to kiss it, but it made another slight noise, and
this overcame her completely, the deathly look returned, and he hastily
gave back the infant.

She strove hard for utterance, and he could hardly catch her gasping
words, 'You'll be fond of it, and think of me.'

'Don't, don't talk so, dearest. You will soon be better. You are better.
Let me give you this.'

'Please, I had rather lie still. Do let me.' Then again looking up, as
if she had been losing the consciousness of his presence, 'Oh! it is
you. Are you come? Kiss me and wish me good-bye.'

'You are better--only take this. Won't you? You need not move; Violet,
Violet, only try. To please me! There, well done, my precious one. Now
you will be more comfortable.'

'Thank you, oh no! But I am glad you are come. I did wish to be a good
wife. I had so much to say to you--if I could--but I can't remember. And
my baby; but oh, this is dying,' as the sinking returned. 'O, Arthur,
keep me, don't let me die!' and she clung to him in terror.

He flung his arm closer round her, looking for help to the doctors. 'You
shall not, you will not, my own, my darling.'

'You can't help it,' sighed she. 'And I don't know how--if some one
would say a prayer?'

He could only repeat protests that she must live, but she grew more
earnest. 'A prayer! I can't recollect--Oh! is it wicked? Will God have
mercy? Oh! would you but say a prayer?'

'Yes, yes, but what? Give me a book.'

Sarah put one into his hand, and pointed to a place, but his eyes were
misty, his voice faltered, broke down, and he was obliged to press his
f