am waiting to come to you."

The stupidity of calling oneself a Christian, and doubting if we shall
know our friends hereafter! In those who do not believe such a doubt is
more than natural, but in those who profess to believe, it shows what a
ragged scarecrow is the thing they call their faith--not worth that of
many an old Jew, or that of here and there a pagan!

"I shall not be far from you, dear, I think--sometimes at least," she
said, speaking very low. "If you dream anything nice about me, think I
am thinking of you. If you should dream anything not nice, think
something is lying to you about me. I do not know if I shall be allowed
to come near you, but if I am--and I think I shall be--sometimes, I
shall laugh to myself to think how near I am, and you fancying me a
long way off! But any way all will be well, for the great life, our
God, our father, is, and in him we cannot but be together."

After that she fell into a deep sleep, and slept for hours. Then
suddenly she sat up. Donal put his arm behind and supported her. She
looked a little wild, shuddered, murmured something he could not
understand, then threw herself back into his arms. Her expression
changed to a look of divinest, loveliest content, and she was gone.

CHAPTER LXXXII.

THE WILL.

When her will was read, it was found that, except some legacies, and an
annuity to Mrs. Brookes, she had left everything to Donal.

Mr. Graeme, rising the moment the lawyer looked up, congratulated
Donal--politely, not cordially, and took his leave.

"If you are walking towards home," said Donal, "I will walk with you."

"I shall be happy," said Mr. Graeme--feeling it not a little hard that
one who would soon be heir presumptive to the title should have to tend
the family property in the service of a stranger and a peasant.

"Lord Morven cannot live long," said Donal as they went. "It is not to
be wished he should."

Mr. Graeme returned no answer. Donal resumed.

"I think I ought to let you know at once that you are heir to the
title."

"I think you owe the knowledge to myself!" said the factor, not without
a touch of contempt.

"By no means," rejoined Donal: "on presumption, after lord Forgue, you
told me;--after lord Morven, I tell you."

"I am at a loss to imagine on what you found such a statement," said
Graeme, beginning to suspect insanity.

"Naturally; no one knows it but myself. Lord Morven knows that his son
cannot succeed, but he does