He talked to the Count, who wept, tore his hair, and made
promises, which he really then intended to execute, and which at
least comforted my Philippe.
The good priest who attended him said, he had never seen anything
more edifying or beautiful, and that he had never heard the
confession of a military man showing a purer heart, more full of holy
love, trust, and penitence. There was a great peace upon us all, as
his life ebbed away, and even the Count stood silent and awestruck.
They took me away at last. I remember nothing but the priest telling
me that my husband was in Paradise.
I felt as if it were all a dream, and when presently my brother came
and took my hand, I cried out: 'Oh, wake me! Wake me!' And when he
burst into tears I asked what he meant.
Looking back now I can see how very kind he was to me, though I made
little return, being altogether bewildered by the sudden strangeness
of my first grief. Poor M. de Solivet! he must have had a heavy
charge for Armand d'Aubepine was altogether frantic with grief, and
did nothing to help him, while I could not weep, and sat like a
statue, hardly knowing what they said to me. Nay, when the tidings
came that my father had been killed in the battle of Marston Moor
three weeks before, I was too dull and dead to grieve. Eustace had
written to my husband in order that he might prepare me; I opened the
letter, and all that I can remember feeling was that I had no one to
shield me.
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