How it all Came Round by L.T. Meade

Mr. Harman felt himself growing weaker and weaker. The disease which was to lay him in his grave was making slow, but steady progress. It was just possible that, had his mind been at rest, the weakness of body, the pain of body, the slow decay might have been, not removed, but at least arrested. Had Mr. Harman been a very happy man, he might have lived, even with so fatal a malady, for many years. He had lived a life of almost perfect physical health for over sixty years, and during all that time he had been able to keep mental pains at bay; but in his present weakness he found this impossible. His whole nervous system became affected, and it was apparent even to his daughter's eyes, that he was a very unhappy man. For her sake, however, he still did wonders. He dragged himself up to breakfast morning after morning, when he would have given worlds to remain in bed. He still went every day to his office in the city, though, when there, he sat in his office chair dull and unmindful of what was going on. Jasper did the work. Jasper was here, there, and everywhere; but it had come to such a pass with John Harman, that he now almost disliked gold. Still, for Charlotte's sake, he went there. Charlotte on the verge of her marriage must suspect nothing. In the evenings he sat with his daughter, he looked with apparent interest at the many presents which came pouring in, he made her show herself to him in each of the new dresses, and he even went himself with her to choose her wedding wreath and veil. But all these things had become such a weariness to the man that, dearly as he loved this one precious daughter, he began to look forward with almost a sense of relief to the one week of her absence. During that week he need disguise nothing, he need not go to the office, he need not put on this forced cheerfulness. He might stay in bed all day long if he pleased.

That week was near now, for it was the twelfth of April. In another eight days the wedding morning would dawn.