"Where can Cæsar be?" she said at length, and I knew from her looks she feared the worst.
Then I heard a horse come dashing up to the door, and Frank almost flew into the room.
"Thank God!" was all that mother could say. The poor father knelt before his boy. His mother told him in a word what she had done. Oh! the look of indescribable agony that passed over his face as he found he was too late!
Our boy was dying!
Frank would not give up even then, but said "while there is life there is hope." But the breast heaved more feebly—the shrill sound gradually ceased—until lying in the arms of his grandmother, with his father and mother kneeling before him—his precious hand encircling my finger, he gave one last, lingering look at each of the group standing around him, and without a struggle or a sigh—only a slight shudder, he fell sweetly asleep.
After a few moments, so calm, so untroubled was that beautiful brow, so sweetly smiled those ruby lips, that as I gazed, I could not believe the spirit had fled. I could hardly refrain from catching him in my arms.
"Walter! oh, Walter!!" I cried, "can't you speak once more to poor mamma?" I passionately kissed his brow, his eyes, his beautiful lips!—oh, how proud I had been of those pouting, red lips; but they would never speak again.
I felt a strong arm put around me, and a kind voice told me I must not stay. My dear husband led me to the library, while mother, with Emily and Ann, performed the last offices for the dearly loved one.
"Oh, Frank!" said I, "why, why were you gone?"
He hid his face in his hands, and his bosom heaved convulsively. It is dreadful to see a man weep. I put my arms around his neck, and we wept long and bitterly. It was so sudden, the blow staggered me. It was now morning. Only yesterday morning, and my Walter was well; now, where is he?