arden, by the trysting tree, in the wild forest, by the sea
shore, in the desert, by the foaming cataract, on the bleak mountain
top, or by moonlight on the crags of the wild glacier, wherever the
wings of thy spirit may carry thee. I cannot follow thee. I linger in
chains of clay, and languish from day to day in my prison-house of
flesh, whilst thou---- But, stay, perhaps the lot I bear may be thy own;
perhaps the doors of the flesh may have closed upon _thy_ spirit also.
Oh, if it be that our souls are for ever banished from that Paradise
which they have so often revelled in together! What have we further to
look forward to but those earthly joys known to the most grovelling
mortal? This is a melancholy prospect, my Edith, for us who remember
(however, indistinctly--from the growth of that clay--over _thy_ spirit
perchance, as well as my own) those divine joys we experienced together
when our spirits walked untrammelled from our bonds of clay and our
souls melted into the harmony of those spheres which are their proper
element. How the weight of this mortal coil oppresses me as I write! I
can think of nothing that is untainted with the gross material nature
that surrounds me. My dreams of late confirm my horrible suspicions.
When, the other night, I sought thee at the garden gate, where enter
only spirits untrammelled by the flesh, didst thou hear that voice that
turned me away, and bid me return to earth? Oh! Edith, let us both make
another effort before it is too late. Perhaps even now----"

Here the patient dropped her voice, and her eye scanned the paper in
silence, from which I inferred that there was something about myself in
it that she did not wish me to know; but I had heard enough. Charles
wanted to persuade his lady-love to battle against all my efforts to
bring her round to a proper state of health, and intended doing the same
himself. Here was a regular conspiracy--two patients already all but on
the point of death, had leagued together to starve themselves outright,
and so baffle all the doctor's efforts to save them. Oh, it was
downright suicide. I did not know exactly what to do.

"This is the last time I'll act as Mercury between two lovers," thought
I.

I had a momentary thought of watching for an opportunity to get the
letter into my hands, unobserved by my patient after she had finished
reading it, and then of crumpling it up abstractedly, and throwing it
into the fire, as it was winter and a lar