me, my child?"

Graeme gave a mute sign of assent.

"Menie, dear child, has had a life bright and brief. Yours may be long
and toilsome, but if the end be the same, what matter! you may desire to
change with her to-night, but we cannot change our lot. God make us
patient in it,--patient and helpful. Short as your sister's life has
been, it has not been in vain. She has been like light among us, and
her memory will always be a blessedness--and to you Graeme, most of
all."

Graeme's lips opened with a cry. Turning, she laid her face down on her
father's knee, and her tears fell fast. Her father raised her, and
clasping her closely, let her weep for a little.

"Hush, love, calm yourself," said he, at last. "Nay," he added, as she
would have risen, "rest here, my poor tired Graeme, my child, my best
comforter always."

Graeme's frame shook with sobs.

"Don't papa--I cannot bear it--"

She struggled with herself, and grew calm again.

"Forgive me, papa. I know I ought not. And indeed, it is not because I
am altogether unhappy, or because I am not willing to let her go--"

"Hush, love, I know. You are your mother's own patient child. I trust
you quite, Graeme, and that is why I have courage to give you pain. For
I must say more to-night. If anything should happen to me--hush, love.
My saying it does not hasten it. But when I am gone, you will care for
the others. I do not fear for you. You will always have kind friends
in Janet and her husband, and will never want a home while they can give
you one, I am sure. But Graeme, I would like you all to keep together.
Be one family, as long as possible. So if Arthur wishes you to go to
him, go all together. He may have to work hard for a time, but you will
take a blessing with you. And it will be best for all, that you should
keep together."

The shock which her father's words gave, calmed Graeme in a moment.

"But, papa, you are not ill, not more than you have been?"

"No, love, I am better, much better. Still, I wished to say this to
you, because it is always well to be prepared. That is all I had to
say, love."

But he clasped her to him for a moment still, and before he let her go,
he whispered, softly,--

"I trust you quite, love, and you'll bring them all home safe to your
mother and me."

It was not very long after this, a few tranquil days and nights only,
and the end came. They were all together in Marian's room, sitting
quietly af