Forgive me if I have pained you, my best love; but I could bear no other lips than mine to tell you, that on earth I may not live--but a brief space more, and I shall be called away.

You must not mourn for me, my Herbert; I die so happy, oh, so very happy!" Herbert had sunk on his knees beside her couch; he drooped his head upon his hands, and a strong convulsion shook his frame.

He uttered no sound, he spoke no word, but Mary could read the overwhelming anguish that bowed his spirit to the earth.

The words were spoken; he knew that she must die, and Mary raised her mild eyes to heaven, and clasped her hands in earnest prayer for him.

"Forsake him not now, oh God; support him now; oh, give him strength to meet Thy will," was the import of her prayer.