“He went on to say that he had reached the limit of his skill, and that nothing further was to be done than to surround the sufferer with placid considerations and neutral odors, and intimated that he disliked to contemplate the possible result of a second contact with Cape Jessamine.
“In a short time it became evident that I possessed merely the essence of a husband, and one day, as he wafted—that’s the word, for his step seemed to be almost devoid of specific gravity—so I repeat, one day, as he wafted to the room in which he usually experimented with his floral attenuations, I happened to be engaged in the dwelling adjoining the conservatory and into which it opened.
“Presently, my duties concluded, I proceeded in the direction taken by my husband.
“As I advanced I grew momently conscious of a ravishing fragrance which seemed to pervade and invite the consciousness to all varieties of agreeable surrender.
“Ah!—in a moment I recognized this pungent delight: Cape Jessamine!
“Aware of the consequences to him should he inhale anything so transporting, I hastened forward.
“The fragrance grew stronger as I hurried on. It seemed to envelop every delicate, fainting scent in the conservatory, and as I placed my hand upon the door-latch leading to the section where I was positive my husband would be found, I knew that I had traced the occasion to its source.
“In another second I had opened the door, and there, a few feet away, lay my unfortunate husband.
“I hurried to his side.
“His countenance, which exhibited that singular placidity which sometimes comes with death, was as serene as a lily, and gave no evidence of the convulsion that must have ensued.