"Now that we have settled this matter, my dear boy, go ahead! I do not
need, I am sure, to remind you to think occasionally of your old uncle:
I know you well, and that satisfies me. I thank you for what you have
been to me, and bless you from the bottom of my heart!
"Come, don't give way, old fellow: I am in Heaven, my soul is free and
rejoicing in the glories of the Infinite. Is there anything in this for
you to mourn over? Farewell."
After reading this letter, my dear Louis, need I tell you that I did the
contrary to what my poor uncle bade me, and that I gave way to my grief.
The tears streamed down my cheeks, my heart was breaking, and I could no
longer see this last word, "Farewell," as I pressed the letter to my
lips.
Such a mixture of tenderness and elevation of tone, such touching
solicitude to console my grief, such boundless confidence in my love and
fidelity! I felt crushed with my grief, proud only to think that I was
worthy of the generosity with which this noble-hearted man was
overwhelming me, prodigal as a father in his kindness. It seemed to me
at that moment that I had never loved him enough, and the grief at his
loss mingled itself with something like remorse. As if he were able hear
me, I swore to him that I would live for the accomplishment of his
wishes: from the depths of my soul, indeed, I felt certain that he saw
me.
When the flow of my tears had ceased, I did not want to tarry a moment
in the accomplishment of his last behests. I ran to his bed-chamber,
opened his desk, and found the two portraits. One, a valuable miniature,
represents a woman of twenty-five, the other is a photograph of Anna
Campbell at the age of fifteen. Although not so pretty as her mother,
perhaps, she has a charming childlike face; the poor little thing felt
uncomfortable, no doubt, when they made her sit, for her expression is
rather sulky and unnatural. Still she gives promise of being attractive
when she has passed the awkward age. I felt myself suddenly possessed by
a sentiment of affection for this unknown cousin, whose guardian I had
become and whose husband I am to be. Upon this cold picture I repeated
to my uncle the oath to obey his wishes; then, taking up a pen, I wrote
a will appointing Anna Campbell the universal legatee of all the
property which my uncle left us.