He knew , poor man ! that the precincts of those four walls would thenceforth be his world -- his world , his home , his tomb , at once a dwelling-and a burial-place -- till he were borne to a darker and a narrower one . But Rose was with him in the tomb . He leaned upon her in his daily passage from the bed to the chair by the fireside , and back again from the weary chair to the joyless bed -- his bed and hers , their marriage-bed -- till even this short journey ceased and his head lay all day upon the pillow and hers all night beside it . How long poor Mr. Toothaker was kept in misery ! Death seemed to draw near the door , and often to lift the latch , and sometimes to thrust his ugly skull into the chamber , nodding to Rose and pointing at her husband , but still delayed to enter . `` This bedridden wretch can not escape me , '' quoth Death . `` I will go forth and run a race with the swift and fight a battle with the strong , and come back for Toothaker at my leisure . '' Oh , when the deliverer came so near , in the dull anguish of her worn-out sympathies did she never long to cry , `` Death , come in '' ? But no ; we have no right to ascribe such a wish to our friend Rose . She never failed in a wife 's duty to her poor sick husband . She murmured not though a glimpse of the sunny sky was as strange to her as him , nor answered peevishly though his complaining accents roused her from sweetest dream only to share his wretchedness . He knew her faith , yet nourished a cankered jealousy ; and when the slow disease had chilled all his heart save one lukewarm spot which Death 's frozen fingers were searching for , his last words were , `` What would my Rose have done for her first love , if she has been so true and kind to a sick old man like me ? '' And then his poor soul crept away and left the body lifeless , though hardly more so than for years before , and Rose a widow , though in truth it was the wedding-night that widowed her . She felt glad , it must be owned , when Mr. Toothaker was buried , because his corpse had retained such a likeness to the man half alive that she hearkened for the sad murmur of his voice bidding her shift his pillow . But all through the next winter , though the grave had held him many a month , she fancied him calling from that cold bed , `` Rose , Rose ! Come put a blanket on my feet ! '' So now the Rosebud was the widow Toothaker . Her troubles had come early , and , tedious as they seemed , had passed before all her bloom was fled . She was still fair enough to captivate a bachelor , or with a widow 's cheerful gravity she might have won a widower , stealing into his heart in the very guise of his dead wife .
But the widow XXXXX had no such projects .
Rose Rosebud Toothaker burial-place day deliverer dwelling-and month night wedding-night