"
"Oh! no not dying doctor, you surely don't mean it." "Yes Jeanette,"
said the old family doctor, tenderly and sadly, "I can do nothing for
him, let me take him in my arms and rest you. Dear little darling, he
will be saved from the evils to come."
Just as his life was trembling on its frailest chords, and its delicate
machinery almost wound up, Charles Romaine returned, sober enough to
take in the situation. He strode up to the dying child, took the clammy
hands in his, and said in a tone of bitter anguish, "Charlie, don't you
know papa? Wouldn't you speak one little word to papa?" But it was too
late, the shadows that never deceive flitted over the pale beauty of the
marble brow, the waxen lid closed over the once bright and laughing eye,
and the cold grave for its rest had won the child.
Chapter XIX
[Text missing.]
Chapter XX
If riches could bring happiness, John Anderson should be a happy man;
and yet he is far from being happy. He has succeeded in making money,
but failed in every thing else.
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