summon the
physician, the life had ebbed from the child--nothing but a
blood-stained form remained. The physician said the jugular vein had
been pierced, and that it was something like half an inch nearer the
ear than he ever saw it before. I believe he was not to blame--far
less was the wretched instrument, whose agony I will not attempt to
describe.

"But from that hour the nervous spasms and depression of spirits
supervened, which I found had become the habit of her mind. I should
have premised that through all the distressing circumstances of the
child's death Mr. Gardner was absent. Undoubtedly, could he have been
at home, his fortitude and calmness would have been of the greatest
service to her; but he did not return until long after her maternal
agonies had sunk into a sort of stupor of wretchedness, which looked
like a resigned grief outwardly. Far enough was her spirit from the
enforced composure of her manner. By degrees she came to look upon
herself as born only to make others unhappy. That she had caused the
death of her own child was too horrible a thought to dwell on
voluntarily, yet it obtruded itself always--and she shuddered at the
grave of the being dearest to her heart.

"I remained with Mary until her husband's return, and then left her,
promising to visit her again in the course of a few weeks. I was
pleased to see the manly kindness of Mr. Gardner's manner to his wife.
He evidently did not understand her, but he was gentle and quiet in
his words to her, and so far as was in his nature to do, sympathized
with her. He was frequently called away from home for weeks together,
and had no idea of the effect solitude was having on the mind of his
wife.

"As soon as I could so arrange my affairs at home as to leave them, I
went to my sick-souled friend. I found her in her chamber and lying on
her bed. She looked paler than ever, and her eyes were dry and
tearless as when I first saw her before. All over the bed, and pressed
in her hands, were letters strewn, half open, and which she had
evidently been reading. She looked up at me when I entered, but
immediately began gathering up the letters with a strange carefulness,
placing them one above the other according to their dates, taking no
further notice of me. I saw something agitating had occurred, and
seated myself without speaking till she should be more composed. I
knew they were Randolph's letters; I had seen them before.

"Presently she spoke in