I feared she was scarce able to endure it," answered Frank.
The conversation turned on more agreeable topics, and soon--by all but Frank, who could not forget her look of anguish--she was for a time forgotten.
Mary heard from her couch of suffering the cheerful blending of voices, though nothing distinct reached her ear; and as none approached to soothe her by affectionate inquiries, a sense of neglect stole over her.

But too habitually accustomed to judge gently of others and forget herself, it passed quickly away.

She knelt on her pallet, and clasping her thin hands, raised her heart to God, in the low, feeble tone of one well-nigh spent: "My God, thou readest my heart! Thou knowest how, day by day, I have striven to love thee more and serve thee better.

Yet, oh, Father of mercies! my soul is tortured with unutterable agony! Oh! on the verge of the tomb, my heart still clings to earth and its joys.

Look down in thy mercy upon me, and help me to fix my thoughts on heaven and thee.
For long I have known the vanity of my hope, and the deceitfulness of human things; yet I could not tear away the pleasing image, and turn to thee alone for comfort.