In truth I should wish it were not you. Oh, for many reasons, but if you should be the one,—if I am destined to see you get old and die, you can rest assured that you will have a respected and tranquil old age, my poor friend; and we will never call any of your brothers to give us the pleasure which you no longer can give, that you will remain the one object of our love and of our care in this house where you first brought back the smiling—and where you were for so many years the only comforter and companion, even if a stroke of misfortune should throw me into a state of deepest poverty I would yet divide my last crust with you, and I would work to the end of my strength, though I had no other obligation, to ease your last days. My dear, my good Dick, you could lose your sight, your teeth, and your voice and he reduced to complete helplessness, a mere body alive only for suffering, but you will never lose my gratitude and my caresses, never; your dead body will not go to the grave without tears, and your memory will be sweet and dear to me as long as my heart shall bear the poniard that has wounded without killing me.
Here he is again who is trembling from the
