Withered Leaves from Memory's Garland by Abigail Stanley Hanna
page 69 of 371 (18%)
page 69 of 371 (18%)
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do before morning. Edward, therefore, could not think of leaving her;
but kept his patient watch by her side during the night, alleviating her sufferings by every means in his power, speaking tender words of constancy and love, and picturing long years of connubial felicity after he had won a fortune in the distant city. Suddenly there came a brighter flash, a deeper crash, and it seemed for the moment that the house was immersed in a lurid glare of light. Annie, screaming, started to her feet, then fell back, fainting, and black in the face with suffocation. Edward thought, as he caught her falling form, that all was over; but after a short struggle she recovered, and the crisis of her disease had past, and she could now breathe easier than she done for several days. She had taken cold during their stay on the Island, and had been sick from that time. The storm had spent its fury, and the clouds had passed away, leaving the blue canopy of heaven studded with golden stars, and all nature was refreshed by the rain that had fallen during the shower. Annie dropped into a sweet slumber, the first that had visited her eyes for several nights; and Edward revolved many things in his mind, as he held her to his heart. Would she remain constant during his absence, and meet him with the same affectionate greeting? What would be the changes that would take place in that time? for he felt there must be changes. And, last of all, would his feelings be the same towards her? truly, of this there was no doubt--was she not his own sweet Annie, who for three years had been his affianced bride, and, |
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