CHAPTER III.

Relapse.

"Some gentle souls there are

Who yield unto my love;

Whom, ripening fast beneath my care,

I soon remove."

WHYTEHEAD.

URING the early part of January 1860 Gertrude's

DURING

health again began to fail. She complained often of fatigue in walking, and inability to run. She became thin; and her appetite was greatly diminished. Her mother, who was ever on the alert to detect any change in her, remembering her serious illness of the previous year, at once took alarm, and asked the opinion of our doctor. He insisted upon it that she was unnecessarily anxious. "But I still," she writes, "watched Gertrude with growing uneasiness. There was a grave sad look about her sweet face. It was a trying time. My heart and thoughts were on my

child, whilst my attention was occupied by a house full of friends."

From the 23d of January may be dated that lingering illness, borne with such Christian patience and courage, which ended in the removal of our dear one to another world. It was on that day that she and little C complained of sickness, and seemed very feverish. The latter speedily recovered. But, though Gertrude lost the fever, she seemed ill and prostrate; and also complained of pain much resembling that which had attended her previous long illness. Her appetite totally forsook her. On Saturday, the 28th, she seemed worse, and complained much of pain. She went a short drive, but did not enjoy it. The following Monday she was in great pain, and kept her bed all day. It was quite astonishing to see the effect the pain had upon her. She looked quite altered even in so short a time, and her face was thin and worn. She got up again the following day, but seemed very subdued and quiet. Her sister A helped her to dress, and had an opportunity of hearing her say her prayers. She was most surprised at the length of time and earnestness with which she prayed. It was what she had never observed before in her. She asked A

if she thought it would be wrong in her to say her

prayers sitting, as kneeling seemed to bring on the pain. She was so humble, and willing to be taught.

On the following Saturday the pain troubled her grievously, though she was patient and uncomplaining. She was carried down from her own room at the top of the house to one on the first floor. Little did we then imagine that she would never see her own room again.

On Thursday, February 2d, Mr H our wish that Dr

yielded to

should see her. Her mother writes:-"I think I see him now looking at my beautiful child, and expressing surprise at her growth and bloom; then assuring her in the strongest terms that she was not half so ill as last year, and would undoubtedly get well." However his medicines disagreed, and the spasms increased. Mr Htinued in daily attendence; and his remedies for a few days seemed to afford relief. But again the agonising pain returned, and baffled every remedy: and we had the inexpressible grief of watching our darling's unabated suffering, unable to discover the cause, or to give her any material relief.

con

On Wednesday, the 8th, she seemed better, and came into one of the sitting rooms. This she did for several days; and would lie on the sofa, or sit in the

arm chair, working book-marks for little presents, or arranging her book of monograms, which afforded her quiet amusement. But often, in the midst of her work and conversation, a sudden paroxysm of agony would seize her; and she would raise her eyes, and, staring wildly, clench her hands, and cry, "Oh! this pain, this pain, it's coming! Hold me, hold me! I can't bear it!" To press her sides with the hands seemed to afford her temporary relief; and thankful indeed were we to be able to do something to allay the intensity of the agony she suffered. When the spasm was over, instead of dwelling upon it, she would at once resume her work, and be cheerful and bright again.

About this time she had a strange dream, which she told in some such words as the following. "I have had such a curious dream! I thought I was driving my own hearse to the Cemetery at N-: and when I got there Mr D- *met me, and said, 'No, I shall not want you just yet; you must wait a few weeks longer.' Then I drove back; and I remember thinking it so strange that I should be driving myself to the grave. I did not feel afraid of dying. I only had a sort of horror of being buried." This remark

* A clergyman who knew her from her infancy.

able dream did not appear to hang upon her mind, or the least to distress her. She never referred to it herself; and, if reminded of it, would only say, "Oh yes! Wasn't it strange ?"

Though days passed on with wearisome monotony, she never complained, never shewed anxiety to go out into the air, never begged to be amused. We often wished she would express some desire for amusement or occupation, that we might have the great pleasure of gratifying it. But, if we offered to read aloud to her, she generally thanked us gratefully, but did not encourage it. She seemed perfectly contented to sit quietly, and patiently bear her suffering life; working a little, and talking cheerfully of everything but herself.

Any little present was always received with such sweet gratitude; and treasured by her side to shew her father on his return in the evening.

Restless suffering nights were passed: but it was only the greatest emergency that induced her to disturb those who slept with her. Then she would say earnestly, "I am so sorry, dear to disturb you; don't keep awake on my account; there, do lie down, and go to sleep again." And she would try to tuck the clothes round with her own feeble hands. Then in the morn