Her lover endeavored to combat her resolution, by declaring that while Alfred would always get a furlough if his wife was still alive at the expiration of its time, he could neither ask nor expect to obtain any further extension.

They were in the midst of a warm discussion, when Dr.Humphries entered.

He had just come from Mrs.Wentworth's room, and appeared exceedingly sad.
"How is Mrs.Wentworth this morning, father ?" inquired Emma, as the doctor entered, and observing his mournful expression, she added, "What is the matter." "Mrs.Wentworth has recovered her reason, and is dying," he replied.
"Poor Alfred," observed Harry, "this hour will not take him by surprise, but it cannot fail to add to his grief." "Has he been here this morning," asked the doctor.
"Not yet," answered Harry, "but," he continued, looking at his watch, "he will soon be here, for it is now his usual hour of coming." "I trust he will not delay," said Dr.Humphries "for his wife cannot last three hours longer." "In that event, I had better go and look for him," Harry observed "he never leaves his lodgings except to come here, and there will be no difficulty in finding him." Rising from his seat, he took up his hat and departed for his friend.
Before he had gone two squares he met Alfred, and without saying anything to him, retraced his steps to the doctor's window.
"My friend" said Doctor Humphries as Alfred entered, "the hour has come, when you must summon all your fortitude and hear with resignation the stern decree of the Almighty.

Your wife is perfectly sane this morning but she is dying.

On entering her chamber a while ago, I found her quite composed and perfectly sensible of the life she had passed through.