I have a great wrong to ask pardon for--a great sorrow to tell you of.

I shall never call you Pauline again as I call you to-night.

I shall never look into your eyes again, I shall never touch your hand.

For we must part, Pauline; and this hour, which heaven has given me, is the last that we shall spend together on the earth." I truly thought that his fever had produced delirium, and, trying to conceal my alarm, I said, with an attempt to quiet him, "Oh, do not say such things; we shall see each other a great, great many times, I hope, and have many more hours together." "No, Pauline, you do not know so well as I of what I speak.

This is no delirium; would to heaven, it were, and I might wake up from it.