"Your wife--"
"Blanche!"
"Kiss me, brother--I am going--rapidly going."
He entwined his arms about the being who, for fifteen years, had been his only companion, and pressed his lips to hers.
"Blanche, Blanche, you must not die; for my sake live."
"No, no; I will soon be gone; then you will be all alone. Don't leave me until all is over."
"I shall not, Blanche; I shall not," cried Stevens, holding her tightly clasped in his strong arms.
"It may be wrong--but we have been here so long--meet me in heaven, brother."
"God grant that I may, poor girl."
"Pray with me."