lips—"you never hoped for such a glorious opportunity?"
"Now, shall I stay with you?" said I, as I replaced the glass on the table—"or will you be more quiet if I go, and send the nurse?"
"Oh, yes, you're wondrous gentle and obliging!—But you've driven me mad with it all!" responded he, with an impatient toss.
"I'll leave you then," said I, and I withdrew, and did not trouble him with my presence again that day, except for a minute or two at a time, just to see how he was and what he wanted.
Next morning, the doctor ordered him to be bled; and after that, he was more subdued and tranquil. I passed half the day in his room at different intervals. My presence did not appear to agitate or irritate him as before, and he accepted my services quietly, without any bitter remarks—indeed he scarcely spoke at all, except to make known his wants, and hardly then. But on the morrow—that is, to-day—in
