WITH A WINE-GLASS. . 12

cry over her and call her his angel, and
all that; she saw he was eoing from bad
to worse, and it was pitiful when it came
near the last, to hear her whispering prayers
that “the dear Lord would not take into
account his broken oath.’’ I knew how that
hung about her heart. It was cruel to see
the wreck and ruin of that fine property,
but it was harder for me to see her dying,
with her baby so rosy and cooing on her
breast! ‘She raised herself when the light-
ness before death came on her, and turned
the baby over, from her bosom to my arm,
and pressed my hand over it, and then she
called her husband with such a cry —her
last in this world; she had never taken her
eyes’ off the door since the night fell, and
I had sent and sent one after another for
- him; they did not believe the messages, and

I don’t think he understood them; but when

she was really gone, some of the servants