” She propped herself up on the massive oaken post of the bed, feeling the paralysis tingle her legs as it left them ever so slowly. Checking an ominous cough, that, ever and anon, convulsed her lungs, the poor woman addressed a few parting words to her companion, who lingered at the doorway as if he had something on his mind, which he did not very well know how to communicate. As she drew off her skirt she felt something in the pocket, and remembered the letter which the commissionaire at the Carlton had given her. A stout female stood in the aperture, an oil lamp in her hand. I will make her my Grail, and some day, perhaps, if God wills, she shall become my wife!’” He looked very hard before him as he said this, and his voice was full of deep feeling. She did not open the Bible but laid it on the edge of the bed, knelt and rested her forehead upon the worn leather cover.
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