"It is—it is—Tobias!"
"Is he much altered?"
"Oh, yes; much—much. He—he used to look so happy. His—his face was like a piece of sunshine!"
She sank upon a chair that was by the bed-side, and sobbed.
"This will never do," said the surgeon.
"Wait—oh, wait a little," she whispered. "Only wait a little.—I shall be better soon."
The surgeon nodded; and then stepping back to the colonel and the captain, he said—
"This burst of grief must have its way, or it will mar all. We must have patience."
They all hid themselves behind the folds of the bed furniture, and Mrs. Ragg sat down in an obscure corner of the room, working her knee up and down, as though she were nursing an imaginary baby. Gradually the sobs of Minna Gray subsided, until all was still. She then gently took one of the thin wasted hands of poor Tobias in her own, and looked at it. Oh, how changed it was. She then bent over him, and looked in his face. What permeative lines of care were there, battling with rounded muscles of early youth! Then she summoned all her courage to speak. She placed her lips close to his ear, and in the soft sweet accents that had long before sank deep into his heart, she said—
"Tobias!—my Tobias!"