Besides, no one could take Peggy's place.

She is less a servant than a friend." I turned away to hide the tears that I could not keep back.

Peggy's illness, though not of an alarming character, showed that even her iron constitution was not exempt from the ills which flesh is heir to,--that the strong pillar on which we leaned so trustingly _could_ vibrate and shake, and what would become of us if it were prostrated to the earth; the lonely column of fidelity and truth, to which we clung so adhesively; the sheet anchor which had kept us from sinking beneath the waves of adversity?
I had scarcely realized Peggy's mortality before, she seemed so strong, so energetic, so untiring.

I would as soon have thought of the sun's being weary in its mighty task as of Peggy's strong arm waxing weak.

I felt very sad, and the meeting with Richard Clyde, which had excited a momentary joy, now deepened my sadness.