She is so unhappy, and so kind, and so true. God deliver her out of her sorrow!
CHAPTER LVI.
"I would that I were low laid in my grave."
She is still sitting silent, lost in thought, after Felix's departure, when the door opens once again to admit her husband. His hands are full of papers.
"Are you at liberty?" says he. "Have you a moment? These," pointing to the papers, "want signing. Can you give your attention to them now?"
"What are they?" asks she, rising.
"Mere law papers. You need not look so terrified." His tone is bitter. "There are certain matters that must be arranged before my departure—matters that concern your welfare and the boy's. Here," laying the papers upon the davenport and spreading them out. "You sign your name here."
"But," recoiling, "what is it? What does it all mean?"