a glory! God
bless you, my pupil. In my vest-pocket is the key of my writing-desk. There
you will find my will; take charge of it, and put it in Le Roy's hands as
soon as possible. Give me some water."

She held the glass to his lips, and, as he sank back, a bright smile played
over his face.

"Ah, child! it is such a comfort to have you here--you are so inexpressibly
dear to me."

She took his thin hands in hers, and hot tears fell upon them. An
intolerable weight crushed her heart, a half-defined, horrible dread, and
she asked, falteringly--

"Are you willing to die? Is your soul at peace with God? Have you any fear
of Eternity?"

"None, my child, none."

"Would you like to have Mr. Bailey come and pray for you?"

"I want no one now but you."

A long silence ensued, broken only by the heavily drawn breath of the
sufferer. Two hours elapsed and there by the couch sat the motionless
watcher, noting the indescribable but unmistakable change creeping on. The
feeble, threadlike pulse fluttered irregularly, but the breathing became
easy and low as a babe's, and occasionally a gentle sigh heaved the chest.
She knew that the end was at hand, and a strained, frightened expression
came into her large eyes as she glanced nervously round the room, and met
the solemn, fascinating eyes of Munin the owl, staring at her from the low
mantel. She caught her breath, and the deep silence was broken by the
metallic tongue that dirged out "twelve." The last stroke of the bronze
hammer echoed drearily; the old year lay stark and cold on its bier; Munin
flapped his dusky wings with a long, sepulchral, blood-curdling hoot, and
the dying man opened his dim, failing eyes, and fixed them for the last
time on his pupil.

"Electra, my darling."

"My dear master, I am here."

She lifted his head to her bosom, nestled her fingers into his cold palm,
and leaned her cheek against his brow. Pressing his face close to hers, the
grey eyes closed, and a smile throned itself on the parted lips. A slight
tremor shook the limbs, a soft shuddering breath swept across the watcher's
face, and the "golden bowl" was shivered, the "silver cord" was loosed.

The vigil was over, the burden was lifted from her shoulders, the weary
ministry here ended; and shrouding her face in her arms, the lonely woman
wept bitterly.

CHAPTER XV

AT HOME AGAIN

Four years had wrought material changes in the town of W----; new streets
had been opened, new