She slowly opened her eyes and looked up in the face of her husband.
"Alfred--husband, happiness" she murmured softly, then gently drawing down his head, her lips touched his for an instant, and the soldier's wife embraced her husband for the last time on earth.
Releasing his head Mrs.Wentworth kept her eyes fixed upon those of her husband.

Their glances met and told their tale of deep and unutterable affection.

The look they gave each other pierced their souls, and lit up each heart with the fires of love.

Thus they continued for several minutes, when Mrs.Wentworth, rising on her elbow, looked for a moment on the grief struck group around her bed.
"Farewell," she murmured, and then gazing at her husband, her lips moved, but her words could not be heard.
Stooping his ear to her lips, Alfred caught their import, and the tears coursed down his cheek.
The words were, "My husband I die happy in your arms." As if an Almighty power had occasioned the metamorphosis, the countenance of the dying woman rapidly changed, and her features bore the same appearance they had in years gone by.

A smile lingered round her lips, and over her face was a beautiful and saint-like expression.
The husband gazed upon it, and her resemblance to what she was in days of yore, flashed across his mind with the rapidity of lightning.