er mortal sight!--and
as, with an enraptured expression, she murmured something about "that
lovely music," the light faded from the still wide open and glassy eye;
and Agnes, passing her hand gently over the lids, said, "Mr. Fairland,
she is gone!" and the first thought of her sad heart was, "Oh that I too
were at rest!" But she checked it in one moment, when she remembered
that there were duties and conflicts and trials before her yet; and she
determined she would go forward, in the Divine strength, into the
furnace which she must needs go through, in order to be refined and
purified.

Once, during Tiney's last sickness, a messenger called for Agnes, and
put a note and a little bouquet of green-house flowers into her hand. At
first, Agnes hoped that the note might contain tidings of her brother;
but though disappointed in this respect, the contents of the note were
soothing and grateful to her troubled heart. The words were simply
these:

"Is there _anything_ I can do for you? And if you need a friend, will
you call upon me?" The note was signed "C.H."

At first Agnes merely said, in a despairing tone, "Oh no! nothing can be
done;" and then, feeling that a different answer should be sent to a
message so kind, she tore off a bit of the paper, and wrote upon it:

"Nothing can be done for me now. Believe me, I will not hesitate to call
upon you, when you can do me any good."

The day after Tiney's death, officers came to search Mr. Fairland's
house for the fugitive, having traced him to Wilston. Every corner of
the house was searched, and even the chamber of death was not spared.
The search, of course, was unsuccessful; but, the day after poor Tiney's
funeral, came tidings to Agnes of the arrest of her brother. He was
taken at last, and safely lodged in the jail at Hillsdale, where he was
to await his trial.

And now Agnes, whose office ever seemed of necessity to be that of
consoler and comforter, must leave her little charge, and go to be near
her brother. It was a bitter parting; it seemed as if the children could
not let her go; and the scene recalled so vividly to Agnes the parting
with Miss Edwards at Brook Farm, that the recollection made her, if
possible, still more sad, as she thought the resemblance might be
carried out even to the end, and the close of this earthly scene to her
might be as melancholy as was that of her beloved teacher.

She promised Mr. Fairland that, as soon as she could attend to it,