ndency.
Just then, her husband came in.

"Is anything the matter?" asked he, anxiously.

"No," said his wife, rousing herself. "Only, I dinna ken weel what to
do."

"Is Miss Graeme sick? or is she asleep?"

"I hope she's no' sick. I ken she's no sleeping. But she ought to be
roused, and when I think what she's to be roused to--. But, if she
wants to see her sister, it must be before--before she's laid in--"

A strong shudder passed over her.

"Oh! man! it's awful, the first sight of a dear face in the coffin--"

"Need she see her again?" asked Mr Snow.

"Oh! yes, I doubt she must. And the bairns too, and it will soon be
here, now."

"Her father," suggested Mr Snow.

"He has seen her. He was there for hours, both yesterday and to-day.
But he is asleep now, and he has need of rest. I canna disturb him."

"Couldn't you kind of make her think she was needed--to her father or
the little ones? She would rouse herself if they needed her."

"That's weel said," said Mrs Snow, gratefully. "Go you down the brae
for the bairns, and I'll go and speak to her again."

"Miss Graeme, my dear," said she, softly; "could you speak to me a
minute?"

Her manner was quite calm. It was so like the manner in which Graeme
had been hundreds of times summoned to discuss domestic matters, that
without seeming to realise that there was anything peculiar in the time
or circumstances, she opened her eyes and said, quietly,--

"Well, what is it, Janet?"

"My dear, it is the bairns. There is nothing the matter with them,"
added she hastily, as Graeme started. "They have been down the brae
with Emily all the day, but they are coming home now; and, my dear, they
havena been ben yonder, and I think they should see her before--before
she's moved, and I dinna like to disturb your father. My bairn, are you
able to rise and take Will and wee Rosie ben yonder."

Graeme raised herself slowly up.

"Janet, I have been forgetting the bairns."

Mrs Snow had much ado to keep back her tears; but she only said
cheerfully:

"My dear, you were weary, and they have had Emily."

She would not be tender with her, or even help her much in her
preparations; though her hands trembled, and she touched things in a
vague, uncertain way, as though she did not know what she was doing.
Janet could not trust herself to do what she would like to have done;
she could only watch her without appearing to do so, by no means sure
that she had done r