Before the expiration of the first week in the new month his mother died.

It wanted then but ten days of her son's birthday.

She had longed to live till that anniversary.
Isaac was present at her death, and her last words in this world were addressed to him: "Don't go back, my son, don't go back!" He was obliged to go back, if it were only to watch his wife.

Exasperated to the last degree by his distrust of her, she had revengefully sought to add a sting to his grief, during the last days of his mother's illness, by declaring that she would assert her right to attend the funeral.

In spite of any thing he could do or say, she held with wicked pertinacity to her word, and on the day appointed for the burial forced herself--inflamed and shameless with drink--into her husband's presence, and declared that she would walk in the funeral procession to his mother's grave.
This last worst outrage, accompanied by all that was most insulting in word and look, maddened him for the moment.