Be a man!" I walked into the cell; Madame de Malouet had remained alone there; she was kneeling by the bedside and beckoned me to approach.

I gazed upon her who was about to cease suffering.

A few hours had been enough to stamp upon that lovely face all the ravages of death; but life and thought still lingered in her eyes; she recognized me at once.
"Monsieur," she began; then, after a pause: "George, I have loved you much.

Forgive my having embittered your life with the memory of this sad incident!" I fell on my knees; I tried to speak, I could not; my tears flowed hot and fast upon her hand already cold and inert as a piece of marble.
"And you, too, madam," she added; "forgive me the trouble I have given you--the grief I am causing you now." "My child!" said the old lady, "I bless you from the bottom of my heart." Then there was a pause, in the midst of which I suddenly heard a deep and broken breath--ah! that supreme breath, that last sob of a deadly sorrow; God also has heard it, has received it! He has heard it--He hears also my ardent, my weeping prayer.

I must believe that He does, my friend.