Prev | Current Page 560 | Next

Warfield, Catherine A.

"Miriam Monfort A Novel"

It is a comfort to
me, I confess, as I lie here, to feel that I have never willingly
injured a fellow-being; to think that I--but, bless my soul, Miss
Monfort, you must not hold me down in that way! you would not, I trust.
But even if you did--no key this time, the door is fast without!"
"Oh, not for worlds! be still, the pain will pass. I have the gift, you
know, of soothing physical suffering. There, rest, you must not stir;
give yourself up to me, if you can--slumber will come."
"It must not come--see, we are all alone!"
Her glazing eye--her slower breathing began already to attest the
influence of the electric fluid, so potent in my veins, so wanting in
her own, both from temperament and disease, yet she resisted bravely and
long, and, even when her limbs were powerless, her spirit rebelled
against me in murmured words of defiant opposition; but this, too,
yielded finally to silence and to stupor; and she slept the deep, calm,
unmistakable slumber caused by magnetism.
Then, again, I went through the experiment of the preceding night, and
strove to awaken her.
"Get up," I said, and yet without willing that she should do so. "Mrs.
Raymond is here to show you her marriage-dress, and Mr. Bainrothe
calls."
"Tell them to let me sleep; don't--don't--disturb me. I am so happy--so
peaceful. It is sweet, too, to think that she will be married at last.


Pages:
548 549 550 551 552 553 554 555 556 557 558 559 560 561 562 563 564 565 566 567 568 569 570 571 572