nd you know how merciful He is to the weary and
heavy-laden. We shall meet again, Archibald, and live together forever
and ever. But for that great hope I could hardly die. William said
mamma would be on the banks of the river, looking out for him; but it is
William who is looking for me."

Mr. Carlyle released one of his hands; she had taken them both; and with
his own white handkerchief, wiped the death-dew from her forehead.

"It is no sin to anticipate it, Archibald, for there will be no marrying
or giving in marriage in Heaven: Christ said so. Though we do not know
how it will be, my sin will be remembered no more there, and we shall be
together with our children forever and forever. Keep a little corner in
your heart for your poor lost Isabel."

"Yes, yes," he whispered.

"Are you leaving me?" she uttered, in a wild tone of pain.

"You are growing faint, I perceive, I must call assistance."

"Farewell, then; farewell, until eternity," she sighed, the tears
raining from her eyes. "It is death, I think, not faintness. Oh! but it
is hard to part! Farewell, farewell my once dear husband!"

She raised her head from the pillow, excitement giving her strength; she
clung to his arm; she lifted her face in its sad yearning. Mr. Carlyle
laid her tenderly down again, and suffered his wet cheek to rest upon
hers.

"Until eternity."

She followed him with her eyes as he retreated, and watched him from the
room: then turned her face to the wall. "It is over. Only God now."

Mr. Carlyle took an instant's counsel with himself, stopping at the
head of the stairs to do it. Joyce, in obedience to a sign from him, had
already gone into the sick-chamber: his sister was standing at the door.

"Cornelia."

She followed him down to the dining-room.

"You will remain here to-night? With _her_?"

"Do you suppose I shouldn't?" crossly responded Miss Corny; "where are
you off to now?"

"To the telegraph office, at present. To send for Lord Mount Severn."

"What good can he do?"

"None. But I shall send for him."

"Can't one of the servants go just as well as you? You have not finished
your dinner; hardly begun it."

He turned his eyes on the dinner-table in a mechanical sort of way, his
mind wholly preoccupied, made some remark in answer, which Miss Corny
did not catch, and went out.

On his return his sister met him in the hall, drew him inside the
nearest room, and closed the door. Lady Isabel was dead. Had been de