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¡¡¡¡'Read it, sir,' he said, in a low shivering voice. 'Slow, please. I doen't know as I can understand.' ¡¡¡¡In the midst of the silence of death, I read thus, from a blotted letter: ¡¡¡¡ '"When you, who love me so much better than I ever have deserved, even when my mind was innocent, see this, I shall be far away."' ¡¡¡¡ 'I shall be fur away,' he repeated slowly. 'Stop! Em'ly fur away. Well!' ¡¡¡¡ '"When I leave my dear home - my dear home - oh, my dear home! - in the morning,"' ¡¡¡¡the letter bore date on the previous night: ¡¡¡¡ '"- it will be never to come back,
oil paintingunless he brings me back a lady. This will be found at night, many hours after, instead of me. Oh, if you knew how my heart is torn. If even you, that I have wronged so much, that never can forgive me, could only know what I suffer! I am too wicked to write about myself! Oh, take comfort in thinking that I am so bad. Oh, for mercy's sake, tell uncle that I never loved him half so dear as now. Oh, don't remember how affectionate and kind you have all been
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