hts. She had not the sustaining faith to say, "Thy will be
done." It is needless to say that Maude's letter met much sympathy at
"The Hall." Fanny cried heartily. She could not think of any thing but
the sadness that had fallen upon the inmates of the Castle.

"Poor Lady Rosamond," exclaimed she, in tones of undisguised sadness,
"how she will lament her sad fate if Gerald should die? Oh, mamma, I
cannot think it possible that he must die."

"Tempt not Heaven, my child, for 'with God all things are possible,'"
said Lady Trevelyan, who was a truly Christian woman. "Everything is
ordered aright," continued her ladyship, "there are no afflictions or
trials in life but what are considered for our good. It is indeed a
heavy blow upon the young wife to lose the husband of her choice, but
how many have borne up when deprived of father, mother, husband and
child."

"Oh, mamma," exclaimed Fanny, "if I could only look upon the ways of
Providence in the same manner as you. I know it is sinful, but I cannot
help thinking that it is too hard for Gerald to be taken away from Lady
Rosamond. How I pity her. Poor dear Maude too. How badly she must feel."

The physician's worst fears were realized. Spite of every care and
precaution a second attack of hemorrhage made its fatal ravages upon the
fast sinking body of the sufferer. Gerald Bereford must die. All hopes
are at an end. Death has set its seal upon his broad, fair forehead.
Soon the eyes that still fondly linger upon the form of his beautiful
wife shall close to open upon the scenes of another world.

This was a bitter trial to Lady Rosamond! Her husband was to die in a
foreign land. He was to be deprived of a last farewell to the dear
friends at home. Such thoughts, bore heavily upon the susceptible nature
of this faithful woman. Could she then have gathered those loved ones
around the dying bed of her husband, she would have sacrificed every
earthly desire; yes, her life. Then did she think of her friend, Mary
Douglas; then did she need the consolation of a true Christian friend.
Like a ministering angel, she strove to soothe the last hours of her
dying husband. Never was woman more devoted, heroic and patient. Not a
murmur escaped her lips as she sat for hours watching the quickening
breath in death-like struggle, convulsing the almost lifeless form of
one who had ever been kind, dutiful, loving, and true to his vow.

On his death-bed, Gerald Bereford felt no pangs of remor