ly one
of his poems in which he alluded to his wife, concluding with the
couplet:

"By that infinitude which made my wife
Dearer unto my soul than its own life."

It will be observed that the sentimental things, in both prose and
verse, which Poe has written concerning his love for his wife--and they
are but two or three at most--were written immediately after his affair
with Mrs. Osgood and the universal charge against him that he had
deserted a dying wife for her sake. It is impossible that at this remote
period of time it could be understood how seriously--from all
contemporaneous accounts--Poe's reputation was affected by this
unfortunate episode; especially at the North, where it was best known.

When Miss Poe left Fordham, in July, she carried with her a letter from
Mrs. Clemm to Mr. John Mackenzie, soliciting pecuniary aid for Edgar on
plea of his wretched health. Mr. Mackenzie was at this time married and
with a family of his own, but he never lost his interest in his old
friend or ceased to assist him so far as was in his power.

CHAPTER XXII.

THE SHADOW AT THE DOOR.

During the winter and succeeding summer matters did not improve at the
cottage. Poe, with health completely shattered and spirits horribly
depressed, remained at home with his sick wife for the most part, only
occasionally arousing himself to write. A lady, who was at this time a
little girl and one of Virginia's visitors, afterward told a reporter of
how she would sometimes see Mr. Poe writing at his table in the upstairs
room, and how as each sheet was finished he would paste it on to the
last one, until it was long enough to reach across the floor. Then she
would venture to roll it up for him in a neat cylinder, taking care not
to disturb him. Sometimes, when he was not employed, he would tell the
children blood-curdling stories of ghouls and goblins, when his eyes
would light up in a wonderful manner. "I lost my heart to those
beautiful eyes," she said.

Mrs. Clemm continued to make the rounds of the editors' offices with
these manuscripts, but met with little success. Poe's mind was not at
its brightest. He was not in a writing mood; and, as has been since
observed, he was reduced to the expedient of rewriting and altering
certain smaller articles and offering them to the more obscure papers
and journals. Mrs. Clemm, in the midst of her manifold duties, could do
but little with her sewing in the way of support for the f