by day I saw the flame of life
dwindling, but she was unsuspicious, and only wondered that her recovery
was so slow. Once, as she was watching, in a half-declining position,
the setting sun, and talking of the happy days to come, I could contain
myself no longer, but burst forth into a frenzy of sobbing.

'Evelyn,' I said, 'you are dying. You know it not, but, oh God, it is
true. You are dying before me, and I can not save you. Perhaps it is too
late for you to save yourself.'

At first she supposed that my emotion was only the undue result of
anxiety for her, but as I grew calmer, and told her more precisely my
meaning, and the causes of my fears, she said, with something of her old
firmness,--

'If this be true, let me become fully convinced. Call in Dr. ----, and
leave me alone with him. I have not thought of dying, but should have
known that my present happiness was too exquisite to last.'

I sent in the doctor, and he told her all. What passed between us, on my
return, is too sacred for relation. It is enough that the bitterness of
that hour filled all the capacity of the human heart for anguish and
despair. Afterwards we became more reconciled to the dispositions of
Heaven.

The history of her gradual decline need not be related--the hopes, the
suspense, the disappointments--the reviving indications of health, the
increasing symptoms of fatal disease--the flush and brilliancy as of
exuberant vitality--the fading of all the hues of life--all the
vicissitudes of the unrelenting progress of decay--one after another,
resolving themselves into the lineaments of death.

It was indeed too late.

Frank still remained in Florence, but had discarded the society of his
bachelor friends for that of the young lady previously mentioned, who
was now entitled to call him husband.

Soon after our arrival I called upon him, announced Evelyn's illness,
with its hopeless character. The young man was shocked. He had never
thought of disease or death in connection with Evelyn. Who could?
Besides, I could read in his face a horror mixed with thankfulness at
the escape, as his memory recalled the madness which would have urged to
guilt, her who was about to leave the scenes of earthly passion. I
invited him to return with me. He did so, and I left him alone with
Evelyn. I knew that his presence would now give her no shock.

What passed between them I never heard; but it was not beyond
conjecture. The method of his regard for