still in their song of praise.

Very quietly passed these last days and nights. Many kind inquiries
were made, and many kind offices performed for them, but for the most
part the sisters were left to each other. Even the children were
beguiled into frequent visits to Mrs Snow and others, and many a
tranquil hour did the sisters pass together. Tranquil only in outward
seeming many of these hours were to Graeme, for never a moment was the
thought of the parting, that every day brought nearer, absent from her,
and often when there were smiles and cheerful words upon her lips, her
heart was like to break for the desolation that was before them.

"Graeme," said Marian, one night, as the elder sister moved restlessly
about the room, "you are tired to-night. Come and lie down beside me
and rest, before Will and Rosie come home."

Weary Graeme was, and utterly despondent, with now and then such bitter
throbs of pain, at her heart, that she felt she must get away to weep
out her tears alone. But she must have patience a little longer, and
so, lying down on the bed, she suffered the wasted arms to clasp
themselves about her neck, and for a time the sisters lay cheek to cheek
in silence.

"Graeme," said Marian, at last, "do you think papa kens?"

"What love?"

"That I am going soon. You know it, Graeme?"

Graeme's heart stirred with a sudden throb of pain. There was a rushing
in her ears, and a dimness before her eyes, as though the dreaded enemy
had already come, but she found voice to say, softly,--

"You're no' feared, Menie?"

"No," said she, quickly, then raising herself up, and leaning close
over, so as to see her sister's face, she added, "Do you think I need to
fear, Graeme?"

If she had had a thousand worlds to give, she would have given all to
know that her little sister, standing on the brink of the river of
death, need not fear to enter it.

"None need fear who trust in Jesus," said she, softly.

"No. And I do trust Him. Who else could I trust, now that I am going
to die? I know He is able to save."

"All who come to him," whispered Graeme. "My darling, have you come?"

"I think he has drawn me to Himself. I think I am His very own.
Graeme, I know I am not wise like you--and I have not all my life been
good, but thoughtless and wilful often--but I know that I love Jesus,
and I think He loves me, too."

She lay quietly down again.

"Graeme, are you afraid for me?"

"I canna be afraid f