"Virginia, is that you? My poor child, I am dying. Nothing can save me now. I leave you alone, no father, no mother, sister, or brother, or husband to care for you when I am gone. Philip, are you here? will you be all these to Virginia? Do not hesitate, do not let pride control you in this hour. I know that I rejected you once, when you asked to be my son; but I see my mistake now. You have been very kind and unselfish to me since I sent for you. You are a man of prudence and honor. I should die content, if I knew Virginia was your wife, if you had not a thousand dollars to call your own. Poor girl! she will have very little, after all my vain seeking of wealth for her. Gold is nothing—happiness is all. Virginia, take warning by me. I am a witness of the hollowness of pride. I have been a sad and discontented man for years. The memory of my cruelty to my Alice has stood like a specter between me and joy. Choose love—marry for love. Philip is more than worthy of you; try to make him happy. My boy, you do not speak. Take her hand, here, and promise me that you will take good care of my last and only child."
He had uttered all this in a low voice, rapidly, as if afraid his strength would not last him to say what he wished. Virginia turned to her cousin and seized his hand.
"Philip! Philip! can you refuse—can you desert me, too? O father! I shall be alone in this world."
"Why do you not promise me, and let me die in peace?" exclaimed the old man with some of that stern command in his voice which had become a part of him; "do you not love my child?"
"Not as I did once. At least—but that's no matter. Do not distress yourself, uncle, about Virginia. I will be to her a true and faithful brother. I promise to care for her and share with her as if she were my sister."
"If I could see her your wife, my boy, I should feel repaid for all I have done for you, since you were thrown upon my hands, an orphan and friendless, as my child will soon be. Send for the priest, children, and make it sure."
Philip was silent; his cousin, too, was silent and trembling.
"Don't you see I'm going?—do you want to let me die unsatisfied?"—the querulous voice was weak and sinking.
"I promise to be a brother to Virginia—to care for her as if she were my own, uncle. Is not that enough?"