ing your promise. For my sake can you
endure till the end?' They faded away; and sorrow sat down once more,
clutching my heart; and death, the Angel who keeps the key of the Gate
of Release, turned his back upon me. I had almost escaped; I was close
to the other world, and I was conscious. I saw my mother's spirit; it
was no delirious fancy. I know that she is dead. Even in the world of
the released, she grieves over the awful consequences of my obedience
to her wishes. Mortal agony of body and soul brings us so near to the
borderland, that we have glimpses; and those we love, lean across the
boundary line and compassionate us. So my Gethsemane called down the
one strengthening Angel of all the heavenly hosts, who had most power
to comfort my heart, and gird me for my fate, my father, my noble
father. God, in pity, sent him to exhort me to bear my cross bravely."

The low solemn voice ceased, and in the silence that followed, only the
dull patter of the rain, and the persistent purring of a kitten curled
up on the cot were audible. Mrs. Singleton finished the buttonhole in
Dick's apron, and threaded her needle.

"If it comforts you at all to believe that, I have no right to say
anything."

"You think, however, that I am the victim of some hallucination?"

"Not even that. I think you had a very vivid dream, and being
exhausted, you mistook a feverish vision for a real apparition. I can't
believe your mother is dead, because if such were the case, Dyce would
have returned at once, and told us."

"Dyce has a kind heart, and shrinks from bringing me the sad news; for
she knows my cup was already full. I know that my mother is dead. Time
will show you that I make no mistake. The veil was lifted, and I saw
beyond."

"Maybe so; may be not. I am stubborn in my opinions, and I never could
think it possible for flesh to commune with spirits. Don't let us talk
about anything that disturbs you, until you regain your strength. Why
will you not try a little of this port wine? Miss Gordon brought it
yesterday, and insisted I should give it to you, three times a day. It
is very old and mellow. Look at things practically. God kept you alive
for some wise purpose, and since you are obliged to face trouble, is it
not better to arm yourself with all the physical vigor possible? Drink
this, and lie down."

As Beryl mechanically drained the glass and handed it back, Mrs.
Singleton added:

"I believe I told you, Miss Gordon is Mr. D