his horse, and mounting him, accompanied Hugh to the sick bed of his
brother. On arriving there, they found him worse; and never before, nor
during his whole professional experience, had the doctor witnessed
such a scene. Hugh took his place behind Felix, who, by the doctor's
direction, was placed in a half-sitting, half-recumbent posture in the
bed; his arms were placed distractedly about him, his breast was his
pillow, and his cheek, wildly and with voracious affection, laid to
his. He was restrained from crying aloud, but his groans were enough to
wrench the heart from which they proceeded to pieces. Sympathy, in fact,
was transferred from the sick boy to his brother; and perhaps more tears
were shed by the lookers-on from pity towards Hugh than Felix.

But where was she, the bride and wife of a changeful day--of a day, in
which the extremities of happiness and misery met? Oh, where but where
she should and ought to be, at his bed-side, hoping against hope,
soothing his wild ravings by her soft sweet voice; and when, in his
delirium, the happy scene of the past day seemed reacted, then she
knelt, ever ready to lead him, by her words and caresses, into a
forgetfulness of his present pain. In his desperate struggles he fancied
they were tearing her from him; and when the strength of several men
could scarce restrain him, then came the mildness of her power. With her
gentle hands and her fond, kind words she laid him in peace once more,
and, kneeling by his side, cooled his burning temples with her pale
fingers, and wetted his parched lips with the draught prescribed by the
physician. When the crisis, however, approached, she saw by the keen
glance of observant affection, that the doctor's manner betrayed his
hopelessness of her husband's recovery. Then did her strength give way,
and one violent fit of hysteric sobbing almost broke down her reason
and physical powers. Unavailing was all their tenderness, and fruitless
every attempt at consolation. Even her own beloved mother failed.