I swore I would bring your husband to the gallows,—would plunge you in such want, such distress, that you should have no alternative but the last frightful resource of misery,—and I also swore, that if you had a son he should share the same fate as his father. The clergyman, meanwhile, proceeded with the service, while the coffin was deposited at the brink of the grave. "There is nobody else. One of these, a lady, evidently a confirmed invalid, and attired in deep mourning, reclined upon a sort of couch, or easy chair, set on wheels, with her head supported by cushions, and her feet resting upon a velvet footstool. "Well, I'm not far from the mark. Anna, why will you persist in this single-handed combat with life?” “Don’t!” she cried. “Here is my card.
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