A carriage stopped at the door, and a hasty step came up the walk.

"Lucy Ransom," said Mrs. Kinloch, (for it was she, just returned from her
drive,) "Lucy Ransom, what are you blubbering about? Here on the piazza,
and with your flat-iron! What is the matter?"

"Matter enough!" said Lucy. "See!--see Mr."----But the sobs were too
frequent. She became choked, and fell into an hysterical paroxysm.

By this time Mrs. Kinloch had stepped upon the piazza, and saw the
drooping head, the dangling arms, and the changed face of her husband.
"Dead! dead!" she exclaimed. "My God! what has happened? Mildred, who was
with him? Was the doctor sent for? or Squire Clamp? or Mr. Rook? What did
he say to you, dear?" And she tried to lift up the sobbing child, who
still clung to the stiffening knees where she had so often climbed for a
kiss.

"Oh, mother! _is_ he dead?--no life left?"

"Calm yourself, my dear child," said Mrs. Kinloch. "Tell me, did he say
anything?"

Mildred replied, "He was faint, and before I could give him the cordial he
asked for he was almost gone. 'The blacksmith,' he said, 'send for Ralph
Hardwick'; then he said something of the ebony cabinet, but could not
speak the words which were on his lips." She could say no more, but gave
way to uncontrollable tears and sobs.

By this time, Mrs. Kinloch's son, Hugh Branning, who had been to the