"Oh, what is it? what is it?" she said.
"He—he was my husband—and—and I loved him," came in a hoarse whisper from the colorless lips, and with the last word she swooned again.
"She has lost her reason," thought Mildred. "Poor, poor thing! oh, perhaps it may be better for her if she never comes to herself again."
Chapter Eighteenth.
"Never morning wore
To evening, but some heart did break."