t my glasses are getting wondrous dim. I must have a new
pair, doctor. How slow the wheel turns round; the band keeps slipping
off, and the crank goes creaking, creaking, for want of oil. Little
Helen, take your feet off the treadle, and don't sit so close, darling.
I can't breathe."

She panted a few moments, catching her breath with difficulty, then
tossing her arms above the bed-cover, said, in a fainter voice,

"The great wheel of eternity keeps rolling on, and we are all bound upon
it. How grandly it moves, and all the time the flax on the distaff is
smoking. God says in the Bible He will not quench it, but blow it to a
flame. You've read the Bible, havn't you, doctor? It is a powerful book.
It tells about Moses and the Lamb. I'll tell you a story, Helen, about a
Lamb that was slain. I've told you a great many, but never one like
this. Come nearer, for I can't speak very loud. Take care, the thread is
sliding off the spool. Cut it, doctor, cut it; it's winding round my
heart so tight! Oh, my God! it snaps in two!"

These were the last words the aged spinster ever uttered. The
main-spring of life was broken. When the cold, gray light of morning had
extinguished the pallid splendor of the moon, and one by one the objects
in the little room came forth from the dimness of shade, which a single
lamp had not power to disperse, a great change was visible. The dark
covering of the bed was removed, the bed itself was gone--but through a
snowy white sheet that was spread over the frame, the outline of a tall
form was visible. All was silent as the grave. A woman sat by the
hearth, with a grave and solemn countenance--so grave and so solemn she
seemed a fixture in that still apartment. The wheel stood still by the
bed-frame, the spectacles lay still on the Bible, and a dark, gray dress
hung in still, dreary folds against the wall.

After a while the woman rose, and walking on tiptoe, holding her breath
as she walked, pulled the sheet a little further one side. Foolish
woman! had she stepped with the thunderer's tread, she could not have
disturbed the cold sleeper, covered with that snowy sheet.

Two or three hours after, the door opened and the young doctor entered
with a young girl clinging to his arm. She was weeping, and as soon as
she caught a glimpse of the white sheet she burst into loud sobs.

"We will relieve you of your watch a short time," said Arthur; and the
woman left the room. He led Helen to the bedside, a