"Nay, Mary, will it not disturb you?" said Emmeline, kneeling by her
couch, and kissing the thin hand extended to her.

"No, dearest, not your soft, sweet voice, it will soothe and give me
pleasure. I feel stronger and better to-night than I have done for some
time. Sing to me, but only those words, dear Emmy; all others would
neither suit this scene nor my feelings."

For a moment Emmeline hesitated, and looked towards her mother and Mrs.
Greville. Neither was inclined to make any objection to her request, and
on the appearance of her harp, under the superintendence of Arthur,
Emmeline prepared to comply. She placed the instrument at the further
end of the apartment, that the notes might fall softer on Mary's ear,
and sung, in a sweet and plaintive voice, the following words:--

"Remember me! ah, not with sorrow,
'Tis but sleep to wake in bliss.
Life's gayest hours can seek to borrow
Vainly such a dream as this.

Ah, see, 'tis heaven itself revealing
To my dimmed and failing sight;
And hark! 'tis angels' voices stealing
Through the starry veil of night.

Come, brother, come; ah, quickly sever
The cold links of earth's dull chain;
Come to thy home, where thou wilt never
Pain or sorrow feel again.

Come, brother, come; we spread before thee
Visions of thy blissful home;
Heed not, if Death's cold pang come o'er thee,
It will but bid thee haste and come!

Ah, yes, I see bright forms are breaking
Through the mist that veils mine eyes;
Now gladly, gladly, earth forsaking,
Take, oh, take me to the skies.

The mournful strain ceased, and there was silence. Emmeline had adapted
the words to that beautiful air of Weber's, the last composition of his
gifted mind. Mary's head still rested on the bosom of Herbert, her hand
clasped his. Evening was darkening into twilight, or the expression of
her countenance might have been remarked as changed--more spiritual, as
if the earthly shell had shared the beatified glory of the departing
spirit. She fixed her fading eyes on Ellen, who was kneeling by her
couch, steadily and calmly, but Ellen saw her not, for in that hour her
eyes were fixed, as in fascination on the form of Herbert, as he bent
over his beloved. The dying girl saw that mournful glance, and a gleam
of intelligence passed over her beautiful features. She extended one
hand to Ellen, who clasped it fondly, and then she tried to draw it
towards Herbert.