The fever with which his father had died, and which, was still prevailing in the village, had fastened upon him, and for many days was his life despaired of.

The ablest physicians were called, but few of them gave any hope to the pale, weeping sister, who, with untiring love, kept her vigils by her brother's bedside.
When he was first taken ill he had manifested great uneasiness at his stepmother's presence, and when at last he became delirious he no longer concealed his feelings, and if she entered the room he would shriek "Take her away from me! Take her away! Chain her in the cellar--anywhere out of my sight." Again he would speak of Kate, and entreat that she might come to him.
"I have nothing left but her and Margaret," he would say; "and why does she stay away ?" Three different times had Margaret sent to her young friend, urging her to come, and still she tarried, while Margaret marveled greatly at the delay.

She did not know that the girl whom she had told to go had received different directions from Mrs.Hamilton, and that each day beneath her mother's roof Kate Kirby wept and prayed that Walter might not die.
One night he seemed to be dying, and gathered in the room were many sympathizing friends and neighbors.

Without, 'twas pitchy dark.

The rain fell in torrents and the wind, which had increased in violence since the setting of the sun, howled mournfully about the windows, as if waiting to bear the soul company in its upward flight.