"I want to see my husband alone."
When all had left the room, he sunk down on his knees by the bed and hid his face. The bed was shaken by his convulsive sobbing. "My dear husband," she said, "you know I love you."
"Yes—yes, and you are the only one that does—the only one that can. I'm hard and cross, and bad as the devil. Nobody could love me but you; and I can't—I won't—give you up!"
"You needn't give me up; you must come with me. I want you to come where I am; I shall wait for you; you're an old man—it won't be long. But oh, do listen to me now. You can't come to heaven till you've put away all hard feeling out of your heart. You must make up that quarrel with the church. When you know you've been wrong, you must say so. I want you to promise this. Please do!"
There was silence; and Zeph's form shook with the conflict of his feelings.
But the excitement and energy which had sustained the sick woman thus far had been too much for her; a blood vessel was suddenly ruptured, and her mouth filled with blood. She threw up her hands with a slight cry. Zeph rose and rushed to the door, calling the nurse.
It was evident that the end had come.