No, with the daughter of Jephthah, I exclaimed,-- 'Let my memory still be thy pride, And forget not I smiled as I died.' Shutting, or rather slamming the door, she bounded down the stairs with the steps of the chamois.
I had not finished my mother's history, but I had passed the _breakers_.
There could be nothing beyond so fearful and wrecking.

The remainder was brief, and written at times with a weak and failing hand.
* * * * * "How long I remained in that deadly swoon," continued the manuscript, "I know not.

When I recovered, I was lying on my bed, with Peggy standing on one side and a physician on the other.

As soon as I looked up, Peggy burst into tears.
"'Thank God!' she sobbed, 'I thought she was dead.' "'Hush!' said the doctor; 'let her be kept perfectly quiet.

Give her this composing draught, and let no one be admitted to her chamber,--not even her child.' "Child! it all came back to me.