Lay your
face on mine, darling."
He did just as she requested, whispering sweet, solemn words of comfort;
and then, beneath his own he felt her lips grow cold and still.
Presently he heard one long, deep-drawn sigh. Some one raised the sweet
head from his breast, and laid it back upon the pillow. He knew she was
dead.
He tried to bear it; he said to himself that he must be a man, that he
had to live for his child's sake. He tried to rise, but the strength of
his manhood failed him. With a cry never forgotten by those who heard
it, Lord Charlewood fell with his face on the ground.
Seven o'clock. The full light of day was shining in the solemn chamber;
the faint golden sunbeams touched the beautiful white face, so still and
solemn in death; the white hands were folded, and lay motionless on the
quiet heart. Kindly hands had brushed back the golden-brown hair; some
one had gathered purple chrysanthemums and laid them round the dead
woman, so that she looked like a marble bride on a bed of flowers. Death
wore no stern aspect there; the agony and the torture, the dread and
fear, were all forgotten; there was nothing but the sweet smile of one
at perfect rest.
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