He is shocked, conscience-stricken, remorseful.

I have told him that he can do no good beyond cheering her by his presence.

I do not know what he thinks of proposing to her if she gets better, but he says little to her at present: indeed he dares not: his words agitate her dangerously.
Sept.

28 .-- After a struggle between duty and selfishness, such as I pray to Heaven I may never have to undergo again, I have asked him for pity's sake to make her his wife, here and now, as she lies.

I said to him that the poor child would not trouble him long; and such a solemnization would soothe her last hours as nothing else could do.