has reached her ears. It is not his usual
bedroom, yet she knows that within that door lies all that remains to
her of the brother so fondly loved.

With slow and lagging steps, with bent head and averted eyes, she
creeps tardily near, resting with her hand upon the lock to summon
courage to meet what must be before her. She feels faint,--sick with a
bodily sickness,--for never yet has she come face to face with Death.

At last, bringing her teeth firmly together, and closing her eyes, by
an immense effort she compels herself to turn the handle of the door,
and enters.

Letitia is seated upon the floor beside the bed, her head lowered, her
hands folded tightly in her lap. There is no appearance of mourning so
far as garments are concerned. Of course, considering the shortness of
the time, it would be impossible: yet it seems odd, out of keeping,
that she should still be wearing that soft blue serge, which is
associated with so many happy hours.

She is not weeping: there are no traces, however faint, of tears. Her
cheeks look a little thinner, more haggard, and she has lost the
delicate girlish color that was her chief charm; but her eyes, though
black circles surround them,--so black as to suggest the appliance of
art,--have an unnatural brilliancy that utterly precludes the
possibility of crying.

Some one has pulled a piece of the blind to one side, and a fitful
gleam of sunlight, that dances in a heartless manner, flickers in and
out of the room, nay, even strays in its ghastly mirth across the bed
where the poor body lies.

As Molly walks, or rather drags her limbs after her, into the chamber
(so deadly is the terror that has seized upon her), Letitia slowly
raises her eyes.

She evinces no surprise at her sister's home-coming.

"There is all that is left you," she says, in a hard, slow voice, that
makes Molly shiver, turning her head in the direction of the bed, and
opening and shutting her hands with a peculiarly expressive, empty
gesture. Afterward she goes back to her original position, her face
bent downward, her body swaying gently to and fro.

Reluctantly, with trembling steps and hidden eyes, Molly forces herself
to approach the dreaded spot. For the first time she is about to look
on our undying foe,--to make acquaintance with the last great change of
all.

A cold hand has closed upon her heart; she is consumed by an awesome,
unconquerable shrinking. She feels a difficulty in breathing; almos