e felt remorse for the reproaches she had heaped
on him before he had gone out in the storm.

She waited to hear his knock at the door; she longed for his returning
steps; she felt that she would receive him with more of kindness than
she had for a length of time displayed to him; she kept picturing to
herself perpetually his thin face and emaciated figure, and a fear of
his early death seized on her for the first time; she had been so
engrossed by her own selfish wants, that she had scarcely remarked the
failing health of her son. She started with horror at the probabilities
which her naturally powerful fancy suggested. She resolved to call in
medical aid immediately, for she was sure now that Andrew's constitution
was sinking fast. But how would she pay for medical aid? she had not one
farthing to procure advice. At this thought the yearning, burning desire
for money which had so long made a part of her existence came back with
full force; she sat revolving scheme after scheme, plan after plan, of
how she could procure it. Hours passed away, but still she sat alone,
silently cowering over the cinders of the fire.

At length she started up, fully awake, to a sense of wonder and dread at
Andrew's long absence. She heard the sound of distant clocks striking
twelve. It was unusual for Andrew to be out so late, for he had
uniformly kept himself aloof from evil companions. The high poetical
spirit within him, a spirit which utterly engrossed him, had kept him
from the haunts of vice. His mother went to the door, and opening it,
gazed on the narrow, mean street. The storm had passed away; the street
was white with hail and snow; the moon shone clearly down between the
tall but dilapidated houses of which the street or lane was composed;
various riotous-looking people were passing by; and from a neighboring
house the brisk strains of a violin came, together with the sound of
voices and laughter. The house had a bad repute in the neighborhood, but
Mrs. Carson never for an instant suspected her son was there. She looked
anxiously along the street, and at every passing form she gazed
earnestly, but none resembled her son.

For a long time she stood waiting and watching for the appearance of
Andrew, but he did not come. At last, sinking with cold and weariness,
and with a host of phantom fears rising up in her bewildered brain, and
almost dragging her mind down into the gulf of utter madness, on the
brink of which she had so lo