ing. The eyes, from which nothing but kindness and
love had beamed upon her, were now closed for ever; the lips which had
spoken only words of generous affection and pious hope, were silent; and
the heart which had beat with every warm and brotherly feeling, was for
the first time insensible to her sorrows; yet Laura did not give way to
the strong excess of her grief, for it sunk upon her spirit with a
leaden weight of anguish, which tears and lamentations could not
express, and could not even relieve. She rose and kissed, for the last
time, that beloved countenance, which she was never to look upon again
till they met in heaven, and stole away to the silence and solitude of
her own room, where Laura tried in vain to collect her thoughts. All
seemed a dreary blank. She did not sigh--she could not weep; but she sat
in dark and vacant abstraction, with one only consciousness filling her
mind--the bitter remembrance that Frank was dead--that she could be of
no farther use to him--that she could have no future intercourse with
him--that even in her prayers she could no longer have the comfort of
naming him; and when at last she turned to his own Bible which he had
given her, to seek for consolation, her eyes refused their office, and
the pages became blistered with tears.

After Frank's funeral, Sir Edward became too ill to leave his bed; and
Major Graham remained with him in constant conversation; while Harry and
Laura did every thing to testify their affection, and to fill the place
now so sadly vacant.

On the following Sunday, several of the congregation at Hammersmith
observed two young strangers in the rector's pew, dressed in the deepest
mourning, with pale and downcast countenances, who glided early into
church, and sat immoveably still, side by side, while Mr. Palmer gave
out for his text the affecting and appropriate words which Frank himself
had often repeated during his last illness, "In an hour that ye think
not, the Son of man cometh."

Not a tear was shed by either Harry or Laura,--their grief was too great
for utterance; yet they listened with breathless interest to the sermon,
intended not only to console them, but also to instruct other young
persons, from the afflicting event of Frank's death.

Mr. Palmer took this opportunity to describe all the amiable
dispositions of youth, and to show how much of what is pleasing may
appear before religion has yet taken entire possession of the mind; but
he painte