The clock strikes two.

How late you sit up; or rather how late I, in my selfishness, keep you up.

But go now; have no more anxiety for me; I feel I shall rest well." She composed herself as if to slumber.

I, too, retired to my crib in a closet within her room.

The night passed in quietness; quietly her doom must at last have come: peacefully and painlessly: in the morning she was found without life, nearly cold, but all calm and undisturbed.