our mother, and your pretty little sister; and above all, my
dear child, love your Saviour, who can lead you through the dark valley
of the shadow of death, as gently as he is now leading me. Should you
live to be a man,' added she faintly, 'remember this hour, and the lady
who loved and adopted you as her son.'

"Then turning slowly towards her husband, she wound her thin transparent
hands about his neck; breathed a few words of love in his ear, unheard
by aught save him and me; and reclining her meek pale face upon his
manly breast, expired without a struggle.

"A deep solemn pause succeeded. I was too awe-struck to weep. The deep
convulsive sobs which burst from the heart of the bereaved husband
warned intruders to retire. My mother led me from the chamber of death,
and as we took our way in silence across the park, the solemn toll of
the death-bell floated through its beautiful glades.

"'Mother,' said I; clinging to her dress. 'What is that?'

"'The voice of death, Philip. Did you not hear that bell toll for your
father? It will one day toll for me--for you--for all.'

"'How I wish, mother, that that day would soon come.'

"'Silly boy! Do you wish us all dead?'

"'Not you mother, nor granny. You may both live as long as you like.
But when it tolls for me, I shall be in Heaven with dear Lady Moncton.'

"Rachel started, stopped suddenly, and fixed upon me a mournful gaze,
the only glance of tenderness which ever beamed upon me from those
brilliant, stern eyes.

"'Poor child! you may have your wish gratified only too soon. Did
Robert Moncton or Dinah North know of your existence, the green sod
would not lie long unpiled upon your head. You think I do not love you,
Philip!' she cried, passionately--'I do, I do, my poor child. I have
saved your life, though you think me so cross and stern.'

"She knelt down beside me on the grass, flung her arms round me, and
pressed me convulsively to her bosom, whilst big bright tears fell fast
over my wondering countenance.

"'Mother,' I sobbed, 'I do love you sometimes--always, when you speak
kindly, to me, as you do now; and I love dear little Alice--ah, so
much! my heart is full of love--I cannot tell you how much.'

"Rachel redoubled her weeping--a step sounded behind us--she sprang to
her feet, as Dinah North, with the little Margaret Moncton in her arms,
joined us.

"'What are you doing there, Rachel?' growled forth the hard-hearted
woman. 'Are you saying your pr