'Through cross to crown!--And though thy spirit's life

Trials untold assail with giant strength,

Good cheer! good cheer! Soon ends the bitter strife,

And thou shalt reign in peace with Christ at length.'

KOSEGARTEN.

'Ay sooth, we feel too strong in weal, to need Thee on that road;

But woe being come, the soul is dumb, that crieth not on "God."'

MRS. BROWNING.

That afternoon she walked swiftly to the Higgins's house. Mary

was looking out for her, with a half-distrustful face. Margaret

smiled into her eyes to re-assure her. They passed quickly through

the house-place, upstairs, and into the quiet presence of the dead.

Then Margaret was glad that she had come. The face, often so weary

with pain, so restless with troublous thoughts, had now the faint

soft smile of eternal rest upon it. The slow tears gathered into

Margaret's eyes, but a deep calm entered into her soul. And that

was death! It looked more peaceful than life. All beautiful

scriptures came into her mind. 'They rest from their labours.'

'The weary are at rest.''He giveth His beloved sleep.'

Slowly, slowly Margaret turned away from the bed. Mary was humbly

sobbing in the back-ground. They went down stairs without a word.

Resting his hand upon the house-table, Nicholas Higgins stood in

the midst of the floor; his great eyes startled open by the news

he had heard, as he came along the court, from many busy tongues.

His eyes were dry and fierce; studying the reality of her death;

bringing himself to understand that her place should know her no

more. For she had been sickly, dying so long, that he had

persuaded himself she would not die; that she would 'pull

through.'

Margaret felt as if she had no business to be there, familiarly

acquainting herself with the surroundings of death which he, the

father, had only just learnt. There had been a pause of an

instant on the steep crooked stair, when she first saw him; but

now she tried to steal past his abstracted gaze, and to leave him

in the solemn circle of his household misery.

Mary sat down on the first chair she came to, and throwing her

apron over her head, began to cry.

The noise appeared to rouse him. He took sudden hold of

Margaret's arm, and held her till he could gather words to speak

seemed dry; they came up thick, and choked, and hoarse:

'Were yo' with her? Did yo' see her die?' 'No!' replied Margaret, standing still with the utmost patience,

now she found herself perceived. It was some time before he spoke

again, but he kept his hold on her arm.




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