"You are weeping at the pathos of the air. Come here, and I will comfort you," said Caroline, in a pitying accent. Mrs. Pryor came. She sat down on the edge of her patient's bed, and allowed the wasted arms to encircle her.

"You are weeping at the sadness of the song. Come here, and I will comfort you," said Caroline, in a pitying accent. Mrs. Pryor sat on the edge of the bed, and allowed the wasted arms to encircle her.
