That it should some day stand at his side, looking into his eyes, never occurred to him.

He tried to think, to beguile himself into the belief that he should presently awake to find it a dream.

Futile expedient! She was dead; that dear, kind, loving heart was dead.

Ah! and she had died alone! A great sob choked him.

He sank into a chair and buried his face in his arms.