By the next morning Amabel’s condition was somewhat changed. She moved restlessly upon her couch, and had recurring intervals of consciousness, but the burning fever was continuous. She begged for water and fresh air, both of which were denied her except in very sparing quantities, for fear of harm. Strong medicaments, of a quality which produced disgust and loathing, were faithfully administered, but no healing effect was manifest.
How futile and superficial the devices of the healing art, in any and all ages, in its attempts to deal with maladies of the soul! And who will declare that the deep and obscure fountain of all ailments is not located in the unseen and immaterial part! Verily the springs of man’s nature are hidden, while seen and secondary manifestation is upon the surface, being resultant.
Weary days and nights dragged their slow course along. At length the violence of the fever abated, but the pale face and wasted form spoke eloquently of the vanity of human effort in her behalf. Her glassy eyes and sunken cheeks proclaimed an impending collapse of the mortal tenement. The pure white soul was nearing the portal of the earthly tabernacle, apparently soon to step out.
The physicians solemnly announced that the end was not far away, and that it could not be averted. As a weary toiler at the close of day lays down the instrument [pg 182]he has wielded, so the daughter of the Rabban must put aside that seen counterpart which no longer could serve her.
Gamaliel was bowed with grief. When not at the bedside of his daughter, he seemed dazed, and was barely able to bear the mechanical round of his daily duties. Was the sweet flower of his family to be uprooted? the light of his household to go out?
Embowered awhile so tenderly in hearts of love,
Like some pure gem, enclosed so safe in setting rare,
The tenement outgrown, and now the soul would move,
And mount to larger life within a realm more fair.
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