t life, which to every spectator was so strangely out
of accordance with her youth, but which was to herself such simple and
plain necessity as to permit no questioning. She was brought suddenly
to a standstill at this terrible moment, and sat turning her dauntless
little face to the new trial before her, pale, but undismayed. Nettie
did not deceive herself even in her thoughts. She saw, with the intuitive
foresight of a keen observer, her sister's violent momentary grief, her
indolent acceptance of the position after a while, the selfish reserve
of repining and discontent which Susan would establish in the memory of
poor Fred: she saw how, with fuller certainty than ever, because now
more naturally, she herself, her mind, her laborious hands, her little
fortune, would belong to the fatherless family. She did not sigh over
the prospect, or falter; but she exercised no self-delusion on the
subject. There was nobody but she to do it--nobody but she, in her tender
maidenhood, to manage all the vulgar tragical business which must, this
very day, confirm to the knowledge of the little surrounding world the
event which had happened--nobody but herself to tell the tale to the
widow, to bear all the burdens of the time. Nettie did not think over
these particulars with self-pity, or wonder over her hard lot. She did
not imagine herself to have chosen this lot at all. There was nobody
else to do it--that was the simple secret of her strength.

But this interval of forlorn repose was a very brief one. Smith came
down putting on his coat, and looking scared and bewildered; his wife,
eager, curious, and excited, closely following. Nettie rose when they
approached her to forestall their questions.

"My brother-in-law is dead," she said. "He fell into the canal last
night and was drowned. I went out to look for him, and--and found him,
poor fellow! Oh, don't cry out or make a noise: remember Susan does not
know! Now, dear Mrs Smith, I know you are kind--I know you will not vex
me just at this moment. I have had him laid _there_ till his brother
comes. Oh, don't say it's dreadful! Do you think I cannot see how dreadful
it is? but we must not think about that, only what has to be done. When
Dr Edward comes, I will wake my sister; but just for this moment, oh
have patience! I had no place to put him except _there_."

"But, Lord bless us, he mightn't be clean gone: he might be recovered,
poor gentleman! Smith can run for Dr Marjoribanks;