and
afternoon school. Sophia never could make out whether the girl was
foolish or obstinate in persisting that she did not know what a copse
was: but her cousin Margaret now put her in mind of this girl, with all
her town feelings, and her fuss about spiders' nests.

"How is old Mr Smithson to-day?" Sophia inquired of Mr Hope, by way
of introducing something more rational.

"Not better: it is scarcely possible that he should be," was the reply.

"Papa thought last night he must be dying."

"He is dying."

"Have you just come from a patient who is dying?" asked Hester, with a
look of anxiety, with which was mixed some surprise.

"Yes: from one who cannot live many days."

Sophia observed that Mr James had been sent for early this morning--no
doubt to put the finish to the will: but nobody seemed to know whether
the old gentleman would leave his money to his nephew or his step-son,
or whether he would divide it between them. Hester and Margaret showed
no anxiety on this point, but seemed so ready to be interested about
some others as to make Mr Hope think that they were only restrained by
delicacy from asking all that he could tell about his patient's state.
They knew enough of the profession, however, to be aware that this kind
of inquiry is the last which should be addressed to a medical man.

"You are surprised," said he, "that I am come from a dying patient to
play with the children in the fields. Come, acknowledge that this is in
your minds."

"If it is, it is an unreasonable thought," said Margaret. "You must see
so many dying people, it would be hard that in every case you should be
put out of the reach of pleasure."

"Never mind the hardship, if it be fitting," said Hope. "Hard or not
hard, is it natural,--is it possible?"

"I suppose witnessing death so often does lessen the feelings about it,"
observed Hester. "Yet I cannot fancy that one's mind could be at
liberty for small concerns immediately after leaving a house full of
mourners, and the sight of one in pain. There must be something
distasteful in everything that meets one's eyes,--in the sunshine
itself."

"True. That is the feeling in such cases: but such cases seldom occur.
Yes: I mean what I say. Such cases are very rare. The dying person is
commonly old, or so worn out by illness as to make death at last no
evil. When the illness is shorter, it is usually found that a few hours
in the sick room do the work of months of common