could give it, was kneeling down at the bed's
feet, tears in large drops trickling down her cheeks.

Her nurse was kneeling between the widow and Mrs. Smith, her arms
extended. In one hand she held an ineffectual cordial, which she had
just been offering to her dying mistress; her face was swoln with weeping
(though used to such scenes as this); and she turned her eyes towards me,
as if she called upon me by them to join in the helpless sorrow; a fresh
stream bursting from them as I approached the bed.

The maid of the house with her face upon her folded arms, as she stood
leaning against the wainscot, more audibly exprest her grief than any of
the others.

The lady had been silent a few minutes, and speechless, as they thought,
moving her lips without uttering a word; one hand, as I said, in her
cousin's. But when Mrs. Lovick, on my approach, pronounced my name, O
Mr. Belford, said she, with a faint inward voice, but very distinct
nevertheless--Now!--Now! [in broken periods she spoke]--I bless God for
his mercies to his poor creature--all will soon be over--a few--a very
few moments--will end this strife--and I shall be happy!

Comfort here, Sir--turning her head to the Colonel--comfort my cousin
--see! the blame--able kindness--he would not wish me to be happy
--so soon!

Here she stopt for two or three minutes, earnestly looking upon him.
Then resuming, My dearest Cousin, said she, be comforted--what is dying
but the common lot?--The mortal frame may seem to labour--but that is
all!--It is not so hard to die as I believed it to be!--The preparation
is the difficulty--I bless God, I have had time for that--the rest is
worse to beholders, than to me!--I am all blessed hope--hope itself. She
looked what she said, a sweet smile beaming over her countenance.

After a short silence, Once more, my dear Cousin, said she, but still in
broken accents, commend me most dutifully to my father and mother--There
she stopt. And then proceeding--To my sister, to my brother, to my
uncles--and tell them, I bless them with my parting breath--for all their
goodness to me--even for their displeasure, I bless them--most happy has
been to me my punishment here! Happy indeed!

She was silent for a few moments, lifting up her eyes, and the hand her
cousin held not between his. Then, O Death! said she, where is thy
sting! [the words I remember to have heard in the burial-service read
over my uncle and poor Belton.] And after a p