Beulah - Page 266/348

She shook her head with a bitter smile, and closed her eyes, as if

to shut out some hideous specter. Dr. Hartwell gave her a spoonful

of some powerful medicine, and stood watching her face, distorted by

the difficulty of breathing. A long silence ensued, broken only by

the sobs of the parents. Cornelia leaned back, with closed eyes, and

now and then her lips moved, but nothing intelligible escaped them.

It was surprising how she seemed to rally sometimes, and breathe

with perfect ease; then the paroxysms would come on more violent

than ever. Beulah knelt on the floor, with her forehead resting on

the arm of the chair, and her hands still grasped in the firm hold

of the dying girl. Time seemed to stand still to watch the issue,

for moments were long as hours to the few friends of the sufferer.

Beulah felt as if her heart were leaden, and a band of burning iron

seemed drawn about her brow. Was this painful parting to be indeed

eternal? Was there no future home for the dead of this world? Should

the bands of love and friendship, thus rudely severed, be renewed no

more? Was there no land where the broken links might be gathered up

again? What did philosophy say of these grim hours of struggle and

separation? Nothing--absolutely nothing! Was she to see her sister

no more? Was a moldering mass of dust all that remained of the

darling dead--the beautiful angel Lilly, whom she had so idolized?

Oh! was life, then, a great mockery, and the soul, with its noble

aims and impulses, but a delicate machine of matter? Her brain was

in a wild, maddening whirl; she could not weep; her eyes were dry

and burning. Cornelia moved an instant, and murmured audibly: "'For here we have no continuing city, but seek one to come.' Ah!

what is its name? that 'continuing city'! Necropolis?" Again she

remained for some time speechless.

Dr. Hartwell softly wiped away the glistening drops on her brow,

and, opening her eyes, she looked up at him intently. It was an

imploring gaze, which mutely said: "Can't you help me?" He leaned

over, and answered it, sadly enough: "Courage, Cornelia! It will very soon be over now. The worst is

past, my friend."

"Yes; I know. There is a chill creeping over me. Where is Eugene?"

He came and stood near her; his face full of anguish, which could

not vent itself in tears. Her features became convulsed as she

looked at him; a wailing cry broke from her lips; and, extending her

arms toward him, she said sobbingly: "Shall I see you no more--no more? Oh, Eugene, my brother, my pride,

my dearest hope! whom I have loved better than my own life, are we

now parted forever--forever!"