e; the first
examination was sufficient. Unaware of Clarence's close relationship to
the sufferer, the surgeon took him aside. "A very painful operation,"
said he, "might be performed, but it would only torture, in vain, the
last moments of the patient; no human skill can save or even protract
his life."

The doomed man, who, though in great pain, was still sensible, stirred.
His brother flew towards him. "Flora," he murmured, "let me see her, I
implore."

Curbing, as much as he was able, his emotion, and conquering his
reluctance to leave the sufferer even for a moment, Clarence flew
in search of Lady Flora. He found her; in rapid and hasty words,
he signified the wish of the dying man, and hurried her, confused,
trembling, and scarce conscious of the melancholy scene she was about to
witness, to the side of her affianced bridegroom.

I have been by the death-beds of many men, and I have noted that shortly
before death, as the frame grows weaker and weaker, the fiercer passions
yield to those feelings better harmonizing with the awfulness of the
hour. Thoughts soft and tender, which seem little to belong to the
character in the health and vigour of former years, obtain then an
empire, brief, indeed, but utter for the time they last; and this is
the more impressive because (as in the present instance I shall have
occasion to portray) in the moments which succeed and make the very
latest of life, the ruling passion, suppressed for an interval by such
gentler feelings, sometimes again returns to take its final triumph over
that frail clay, which, through existence, it has swayed, agitated, and
moulded like wax unto its will.

When Lord Ulswater saw Flora approach and bend weepingly over him, a
momentary softness stole over his face. Taking her hand he extended
it towards Clarence, and turning to the latter faltered out, "Let
this--my--brother--atone--for--;" apparently unable to finish the
sentence, he then relaxed his hold and sank upon the pillow; and so
still, so apparently breathless did he remain for several minutes, that
they thought the latest agony was over.

As, yielding to this impression, Clarence was about to withdraw the
scarce conscious Flora from the chamber, words, less tremulous and
indistinct than aught which he had yet uttered, broke from Lord
Ulswater's lips. Clarence hastened to him; and bending over his
countenance saw that even through the rapid changes and shades of death,
it darkened with t