t
have been seen haunting the neighborhood of Blackrock. It was Mr. Morton,
so altered that those who knew him best almost failed to recognize in him
the same man.

Let us not inquire too narrowly into the causes of this remarkable change.

It was not until all hope with regard to the recovery of Digby's body was
abandoned, that it was so strikingly apparent. At first there was the
rebellious cry from his heart, "It cannot be true; it shall not be true,"
and then a gentler and more subdued frame of mind ensued, as he prayed,
"Oh that it may not be true," until at length it was useless to hope
against hope, and the strong man bowed down his broken heart, as he said,
"O God! it is true."

And what of Ethel?

It was her first loss, poor child, and her first contact with a great
appalling sorrow. She was perplexed and stunned with the dreadful blow.
She seemed utterly alone now; whether or not she really could have relied
on Digby in the past for advice and guidance, does not matter--she felt
she could, and now this source of reliance had gone. Her father was
changed, so changed that he seemed almost a stranger, and now in this
crisis of her need she felt that he could yield neither help nor sympathy
to her, while she was impotent to minister to him.

It was well for Ethel that at the time of her sad visit to Blackrock,
Madeleine Greenwood was there, for in her she found a companion of her own
age, and a comforter as well as friend.

As the time drew near for Mr. Morton to return to Ashley House, the
attachment which had sprung up between the two girls became closer and
more intimate, and when Ethel returned to Ashley House, it was a very
great satisfaction to her to have Madeleine with her for a lengthened
visit, a concession which Mr. Morton could not deny to her earnest
entreaties.

The clothes of poor Digby, his books and school treasures, were packed up
and sent away. The Doctor held a funeral service with the boys on the
Sunday after the catastrophe, and addressed them briefly, but with great
earnestness and emotion, on the loss they had sustained, and the awful
suddenness of death, urging upon all the necessity of preparation, as none
knew the day nor hour when the change would come.

A week later a marble column was raised upon the spot where the clothes
were found, bearing this simple inscription: "In loving memory of D. M.,
who was drowned while bathing, June 18, 18--, aged 17 years."

On the evening of