"Papa! guess who is here!"
He looked at her; she saw the idea of the truth glimmer into their filmy sadness, and be dismissed thence as a wild imagination.
He threw himself forward, and hid his face once more in his stretched-out arms, resting upon the table as heretofore. She heard him whisper; she bent tenderly down to listen. "I don't know; don't tell me it is Frederick--not Frederick. I cannot bear it,--I am too weak. And his mother is dying!"

'Papa! guess who is here!'
He looked at her; and then hid his face once more, whispering:
'Don't tell me it is Frederick. I cannot bear it - I am too weak. And his mother is dying!' 