He spent almost the whole day on the sofa at the dark end of the room.
One evening the girl said she had heard a sound as of crying and sobbing in his room, so she did not go in, but remained standing outside.

A little while after it seemed to her as if he were praying earnestly, but she did not understand the words.

The next evening she heard him playing a soft melody, as if on a violin which did not give a clear sound.
The following morning when I came to him his mood was entirely changed, and to my surprise I saw that his violin, dusted and with strings in order, but still cracked, hung on the wall with the bow beside it.

On the table, by the bed, I noticed too an old Bible that I had never before seen, probably because this treasure had always been kept in his drawer as a sacred thing.
He looked more languid and worn out than usual; but his face wore a beatified expression, as of a man who had wrestled with his fate, and had won rest and resignation.
If possible, he said, he would like to speak to my wife that same morning; but he would rather talk with me at once, and so I must sit down for a little while.
With a smile--that same quiet, sweet, mysterious smile of his that I knew so well, but which now seemed no longer to shun observation--he turned to me saying, as he laid his hand on my shoulder and looked into my face: "My dear, kind Frederick! I know for certain, though I cannot tell you why, that I shall not live to see the spring again.

What is wanting neither you nor any one else can give me, only God; but of all men you have been the kindest to me, and your friendship has reached farther than you would ever imagine.