a case, falls on the soul with the weight of mountain certainty; and in
that short ride she felt what an infinite pain may be locked in one
small, silent breast.

The wagon drew up to the house of mourning. Cato stood at the gate, and
came forward, officiously, to help them out. "Mass'r and Missis will be
glad to see you," he said. "It's a drefful stroke has come upon 'em."

Candace appeared at the door. There was a majesty of sorrow in her
bearing, as she received them. She said not a word, but pointed with her
finger towards the inner room; but as Mary lifted up her faded, weary
face to hers, her whole soul seemed to heave towards her like a billow,
and she took her up in her arms and broke forth into sobbing, and,
carrying her in, as if she had been a child, set her down in the inner
room and sat down beside her.

Mrs. Marvyn and her husband sat together, holding each other's hands,
the open Bible between them. For a few moments nothing was to be heard
but sobs and unrestrained weeping, and then all kneeled down to pray.

After they rose up, Mr. Zebedee Marvyn stood for a moment thoughtfully,
and then said,--"If it had pleased the Lord to give me a sure evidence
of my son's salvation, I could have given him up with all my heart; but
now, whatever there may be, I have seen none." He stood in an attitude
of hopeless, heart-smitten dejection, which contrasted painfully with
his usual upright carriage and the firm lines of his face.

Mrs. Marvyn started as if a sword had pierced her, passed her arm round
Mary's waist, with a strong, nervous clasp, unlike her usual calm self,
and said,--"Stay with me, daughter, to-day!--stay with me!"

"Mary can stay as long as you wish, cousin," said Mrs. Scudder; "we have
nothing to call her home."

"_Come_ with me!" said Mrs. Marvyn to Mary, opening an adjoining door
into her bedroom, and drawing her in with a sort of suppressed
vehemence,--"I want you!--I must have you!"

"Mrs. Marvyn's state alarms me," said her husband, looking
apprehensively after her when the door was closed; "she has not shed any
tears, nor slept any, since she heard this news. You know that her mind
has been in a peculiar and unhappy state with regard to religious things
for many years. I was in hopes she might feel free to open her exercises
of mind to the Doctor."

"Perhaps she will feel more freedom with Mary," said the Doctor. "There
is no healing for such troubles except in unconditional submissi