Mr. Dalton wiped the moisture from his eyes, as he stooped
over the coffin lid, and touched her brow, fondly but reverently, with
his trembling lips, Mdme. de Beaumont fell upon the prostrate figure
of her darling, and in their last mortal embrace, swooned away! Bayard
leaning slowly over her, with a face almost as pallid as her own,
muttered in feeble sobs--"My angel! my guardian angel!" and with one
long, lingering kiss, the last he could ever give her, he turned from
her, baptized anew in her self-abnegating love, a conscious and
contrite penitent.
When the funeral was over and peace and quiet were in a measure
restored to the agitated hearts of her mother and Bayard, I made my
silent preparations to depart. Mr. Dalton had left before me. Madame
de Beaumont parted from me with the greatest reluctance, and indeed, I
was not over anxious to leave her so soon after her severe
bereavement, but my duty now lay elsewhere.
It was with the greatest profusion of gratitude and expressions of the
deepest appreciation and regard, that Bayard and his mother bade me
their last farewells. We went together to Hortense's grave in the
morning, and prayed awhile; I plucked one little sprig of early clover
that had struggled into bloom above her, and carried it away with me
as the last parting souvenir of my deeply lamented friend.
When I returned to the comfort and quiet of Cousin Bessie's home, from
which I had been estranged for many months, I began to feel the
re-action of all my recent exertions setting in.
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