character of the
features giving a majestic and severe cast to the whole countenance, far
more elevated than it had while living.

We could only weep over these relics. But where was the deepest mourner?
No one had even seen these two before, or could give any account of
them.

On making stricter inquiry and looking at the books, we found that Mr.
and Mrs. Lewis had arrived first. Mr. Lewis had taken his gun and a
boat, and gone out at once to shoot. The lady had been in her room but a
short time, when another gentleman arrived, wrote his name, and ordered
a boat. She had scarcely seen any one, but the boatman saw her step into
the boat, and described her dress.

A message was at once sent to "the Glades," where Mr. Lewis had gone,
and where he was detained, as we had supposed, by the storm. Before he
reached the house, however, all necessary arrangements were completed
for removing any associations of suffering. No confusion remained; the
room was gently darkened, and the bodies, robed in white, lay in such
peaceful silence as soothes and quiets the mourner.

As the carriage drew up to the door, we both hastened to meet Mr. Lewis,
to take him by the hand, and to lead him, by our evident sympathy, to
accept his terrible affliction with something like composure. In our
entire uncertainty as to his feelings, we could only weep silently, and
hold his hands, which were as cold as death.

He looked surprised a little at seeing us, but otherwise his face was
like stone. His eyes,--they, too, looked stony, and as if all the
expression and life were turned inward. Outwardly, there seemed hardly
consciousness. He sat down between us, while we related all the
particulars of the accident, which he seemed greedy to hear,--turning,
as one ceased, to the other, with an eager, hungry look, most painful
to witness. He made us describe, repeatedly, our last glimpse of the
unconscious victims, and then, pressing our hands with a vice-cold grip,
said, in a dry whisper,--

"Where are they?"

We led him to the door. He went in, and we softly closed it after him.
As we went up-stairs to our own room we heard deep groans of anguish. We
knew that his heart could not relieve itself by tears. My husband read
the "prayer for persons in great affliction," and then we sat silently
looking out on the peaceful sea. In the great stillness of the house, we
heard the calm wave plash up on the smiling sands, and watched the
silver specks in the