things which other people with less concentrated minds cannot see.
Towards morning something passed within me which made me see how it
would end; it was as if a veil had been torn from my eyes and brain.
Nothing now can save Aniela. I know it better than all the doctors.
And that is the reason why I do not resist any longer. What good can
it do either to her or to me? The sentence has been pronounced. I
should be blind if I did not perceive that some power as strong as the
universe is parting us. What this power is, what it is called, I do
not know. I know only that if I knelt down, beat my head on the floor,
prayed, and cried out for mercy, I might move a mountain sooner than
move that power. As nothing now could part me from Aniela but death,
she must die. This may be very logical, but I do not consent to part
from her.

21 November.

Aniela wished to see me. My aunt took everybody out of the room,
thinking she wanted to recommend her mother to my care, and this was
really the case. I saw my beloved, the soul of my life. She is always
conscious her eyes are very bright and her mental faculties excited.
The pain has almost ceased. All traces of her former state have
disappeared, and her face is like an angel's. She smiled at me, and I
smiled back. Since yesterday I know what is awaiting me, and it seems
to me as if I were dead already; therefore I am calm. Taking my hand
in hers, she began to speak about her mother, then looked at me as if
she wished to see as much as she could of me before her eyes closed
forever, and said:--

"Do not be afraid, Leon,--I feel much better; but in case anything
should happen to me I wanted to leave you something to remember me by.
Perhaps I ought not to say it so soon after my husband's death; but
as I might die, I wanted to tell you now that I loved you very, very
much."

I replied to her: "I know it, dearest;" and I held her hand and we
looked into each other's eyes. For the first time in her life she
smiled at me as my betrothed wife. And I wedded her by vows stronger
and more lasting than earthly vows. We were happy at this moment
though overshadowed by a sadness as strong as death left her only when
we were told the priest had come. She had prepared me for his coming,
and asked me not to grieve at it; she had sent for him, not because
she thought she was dying, but that it might do her good and set her
mind at rest.

When the priest had left I went back to her. After so m