lapsed into a kind of doze—but now he groans again.
There is a change. Suddenly he called me to his side, with such a strange, excited manner that I feared he was delirious—but he was not, "That was the crisis, Helen!" said he delightedly—"I had an infernal pain here—it is quite gone now; I never was so easy since the fall—Quite gone, by Heaven!" and he clasped and kissed my hand in the very fulness of his heart; but, finding I did not participate his joy, he quickly flung it from him, and bitterly cursed my coldness and insensibility. How could I reply? Kneeling beside him, I took his hand and fondly pressed it to my lips—for the first time since our separation—and told him as well as tears would let me speak, that it was not that that kept me silent; it was the fear that this sudden cessation of pain was not so favourable a symptom as he supposed.—I immediately sent for the doctor. We are now anxiously awaiting him: I will tell you what
