"I have been waiting for you," said the husband, as his wife entered the sick-room, and the words sounded like a reproach.
"I came as soon as I could," returned the other, as if in apology.
"You stopped to weep, and yet you knew my time was short. Let us have no weakness, Marie. It is the course of nature; in an hour I shall be a senseless form; so the doctor told me. Are our guests enjoying themselves?"
A silent nod was the reply.
"Let them continue to do so; do not disturb them, or hasten their departure. Having assembled for a conference, let them remain for the funeral banquet. I have long since determined upon all the details of the burial ceremony. The funeral anthem will be sung by the Debreczen College chorus—no opera music, only the old psalm tunes. The customary addresses will be delivered by the superintendent, in the church, and by the sub-dean, in the house, while the local pastor will repeat the Lord's Prayer over the grave, and nothing more. Have you followed me carefully?"
The wife was gazing abstractedly into vacancy.
"I beg you, Marie," urged the speaker, "to bear in mind that what I am now saying I shall be unable to repeat. Have the goodness, then, to be seated at this little table by my bed, and write down the directions I have just given, and also those that I am about to add. You will find writing materials on the table."
The baroness did her husband's bidding, seating herself at the little table and writing down what had just been told her. When she had finished the patient continued as follows:
"You have been a true and faithful wife to me, Marie, ever since our marriage, and have obeyed all my commands. For an hour longer I shall continue to be your lord and master, and the orders that I give you during this hour will furnish you occupation for the rest of your life. Nor shall I cease after my death to be your lord and master. Oh, my breath is failing me! Give me a drop of that medicine."
The wife administered a few drops in a little gold teaspoon, and the patient breathed more freely.