'Mrs. Ward! I thought she had only been taken ill yesterday
evening.'

'She only then gave way--but she never had any constitution--she was
done up with nursing--nothing to fall back on--sudden collapse and
prostration--and that poor girl, called every way at once, fancied
her asleep, and took no alarm till I came in this morning and found
her pulse all but gone. We have been pouring down stimulants all
day, but there was no rousing her, and she was gone the first.'

'And Mr. Ward--did he know it?'

'I thought so from the way he looked at me; but speech had long been
lost, and that throat was dreadful suffering. Well, "In their death
they were not divided."'

He shaded his eyes with his hand; and Ethel, leaning against his
chair, could not hinder herself from a shudder at the longing those
words seemed to convey. He felt her movement, and put his arm round
her, saying, 'No, Ethel, do not think I envy them. I might have done
so once--I had not then learnt the meaning of the discipline of being
without her--no, nor what you could do for me, my child, my
children.'

Ethel's thrill of bliss was so intense, that it gave her a sense of
selfishness in indulging personal joy at such a moment; and indeed it
was true that her father had over-lived the first pangs of change and
separation, had formed new and congenial habits, saw the future hope
before him; and since poor Margaret had been at rest, had been