How we had planned all, and had knitted on the new life together we anticipated to the old one we remembered! How we had discussed Mabel's education, and the share which should fall to each! Day-dreams; day-dreams! never to be realised.
My mother went up to town, and in a week or two I received a telegram, saying she was dangerously ill, and as fast as express train would take me I was beside her.

Dying, the doctor said; three days she might live--no more.

I told her the death-sentence, but she said resolutely, "I do not feel that I am going to die just yet," and she was right.
There was an attack of fearful prostration--the valves of the heart had failed--a very wrestling with Death, and then the grim shadow drew backwards.

I nursed her day and night with a very desperation of tenderness, for now Fate had touched the thing dearest to me in life.
A second horrible crisis came, and for the second time her tenacity and my love beat back the death-stroke.

She did not wish to die, the love of life was strong in her; I would not let her die; between us we kept the foe at bay.