“Eugénie, return to life and happiness. I have forgiven you! I had made up my mind to restore a mother to her children.”
“Is it possible? But no; it is better that I should die. You love another; I heard you. I was here, your voice reached my ears; I hurried out into the forest, and I saw you in her arms. That killed me. And yet I deserved this punishment.—I pray that Caroline may make you happier than I have done!—Tell me again that you forgive me, that you will love your son—-”
“Eugénie!—Great God! She is fainting again—and no one comes!”
Ernest and Marguerite rushed into the summer-house and ran to the bed. Eugénie opened her eyes again and held out her hand to me, murmuring:
“I have not seen my children.”
Marguerite started to go out, but Eugénie motioned to her to stop.
“No,” she faltered, “they are asleep, don’t wake them.”
Then she too fell asleep, but never to wake again.