David wept as he watched her sufferings; unreasonable as a child, he would not listen to his mistress's consolations.

Monsieur Becker wished Seraphita to try remedies; but all were useless.
One morning she sent for the two beings whom she loved, telling them that this would be the last of her bad days.

Wilfrid and Minna came in terror, knowing well that they were about to lose her.

Seraphita smiled to them as one departing to a better world; her head drooped like a flower heavy with dew, which opens its calyx for the last time to waft its fragrance on the breeze.

She looked at these friends with a sadness that was for them, not for herself; she thought no longer of herself, and they felt this with a grief mingled with gratitude which they were unable to express.