f the world,--among which number I think that Miss Mackenzie has a
right to be counted.

A few words of affection were spoken between the brother and
sister, for at such moments brotherly affection returns, and the
estrangements of life are all forgotten in the old memories. He
seemed comforted to feel her hand upon the bed, and was glad to
pronounce her name, and spoke to her as though she had been the
favourite of the family for years, instead of the one member of
it who had been snubbed and disregarded. Poor man, who shall say
that there was anything hypocritical or false in this? And yet,
undoubtedly, it was the fact that Margaret was now the only wealthy
one among them, which had made him send to her, and think of her, as
he lay there in his sickness.

When these words of love had been spoken, he turned himself on his
pillow, and lay silent for a long while,--for hours, till the morning
sun had risen, and the daylight was again seen through the window
curtain. It was not much after midsummer, and the daylight came to
them early. From time to time she had looked at him, and each hour
in the night she had crept round to him, and given him that which he
needed. She did it all with a certain system, noiselessly, but with
an absolute assurance on her own part that she carried with her an
authority sufficient to ensure obedience. On that ground, in that
place, I think that even Miss Todd would have succumbed to her.

But when the morning sun had driven the appearance of night from the
room, making the paraphernalia of sickness more ghastly than they had
been under the light of the lamp, the brother turned himself back
again, and began to talk of those things which were weighing on his
mind.

"Margaret," he said, "it's very good of you to come, but as to
myself, no one's coming can be of any use to me."

"It is all in the hands of God, Tom."

"No doubt, no doubt," said he, sadly, not daring to argue such a
point with her, and yet feeling but little consolation from her
assurance. "So is the bullock in God's hands when the butcher is
going to knock him on the head, but yet we know that the beast
will die. Men live and die from natural causes, and not by God's
interposition."

"But there is hope; that is what I mean. If God pleases--"

"Ah, well. But, Margaret, I fear that he will not please; and what am
I to do about Sarah and the children?"

This was a question that could be answered by no general
platitude,-