I was endeavouring to combat the depression of my
feelings by the reflection that I was the support and comfort of my poor
old mother's life, when my attention was roused by the evident compassion
of a young lady, who, after passing me with a hesitating step, withdrew
her arm from that of her more elderly companion, and pausing for an
instant, put a shilling into my hand, saying, 'You look very weary, my
poor man; pray get something to drink with that.' A more lovely
countenance (if by lovely be meant that which engages love) was never
moulded by nature; the sweetness and compassion of her pale face and soft
innocent eyes; the kindness of her gentle voice, made an impression on my
memory too strong to be effaced. _I saw her once again!_ I reached the
merchant's lodgings and my knock was answered as on the former occasion,
by the widow herself. She sighed heavily as she saw me, and after one or
two attempts to speak, informed me that her son was awake, but that it was
impossible for her to administer the opiate, as he refused to let the
smallest nourishment pass his lips; but that he was quite quiet, indeed
had never spoken since he woke, except to ask her how she felt; and she
thought I might proceed without fear of his interruption. I entered
accordingly, followed by a lad, son to the landlady who kept the lodgings,
and with his assistance I proceeded to lift the corpse, and lay it in the
coffin. The widow's son remained motionless, and, as it were, stupified
during this operation: but the moment he saw me prepare the lid of the
coffin so as to be screwed down, he started up with the energy and
gestures of a madman.
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