CHAPTER FIRST
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CHAPTER FIRST
Isab.--Alas! what poor ability‘s in me
To do him good?
Lucio.--Assay the power you have.
Measure for Measure.
When Mrs. Saddletree entered the apartment in which her guests had shrouded their misery, she found the window darkened. The feebleness which followed his long swoon had rendered it necessary to lay the old man in bed. The curtains were drawn around him, and Jeanie sate motionless by the side of the bed. Mrs. Saddletree was a woman of kindness, nay, of feeling, but not of delicacy. She opened the half-shut window, drew aside the curtain, and, taking her kinsman by the hand, exhorted him to sit up, and bear his sorrow like a good man, and a Christian man, as he was. But when she quitted his hand, it fell powerless by his side, nor did he attempt the least reply.
"Is all over?" asked Jeanie, with lips and cheeks as pale as ashes,--"and is there nae hope for her?"
"Nane, or next to nane," said Mrs. Saddletree； "I heard the Judge

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