a, "close on James's death. We have hardly
time to dry our eyes betwixt them."

"The right time, dear heart," said my Lady Ashley, gently. "God knoweth
best when His corn is ripe."

"Was she ever other, if thou mean ripe for heaven?" said she.

"Perhaps," answered my Lady Ashley, "we could not see much difference,
but He might."

I begged her to tell me, if she were present, any particulars of the
matter.

"Ay, I was there," she said. "I went straight to Potheridge from
Wimborne, on receiving of a letter from Mr Monke, who told me that Frank
had brought him another daughter, and, he could not but fear, was not
faring over well. I came to Potheridge upon the 4th of December, when I
found her in her bed, very weak and white. Still I feared no instant
peril then. On the 5th, methought she seemed somewhat better in the
morning; but that even she grew worse, and thence she sank quickly until
she died, at sunset on Wednesday, the 7th. She remembered you, Mrs
Avery, and bade me give you her most hearty and loving commendations,
and to say that she was but journeying Home a little while afore you,
and that however long the time were to you, it would be short to her,
ere you should meet again. And only an hour ere her death (she was in
her sense to the last), came a messenger to Mr Monke with news of the
Queen's death, and that the Lady Elizabeth was proclaimed Queen. He
brake the tidings gently to her. She smiled when she heard them, as I
should think an angel might smile in Heaven, and she saith softly,
`Lord, Thou hast seen, Thou hast seen the affliction of Thy people.' I
answered her, `Ay, God hath been very gracious to us.' She said, `He
hath been very good to me.' Quoth I, `Thou dost not think He hath given
thee too much thought [anxiety] and sorrow?' And as fervently as her
weakness did allow, she answered, `O no, no! I shall clasp them all to
my heart to-night.' In another minute she repeated softly, `And so
shall we ever be with the Lord.' I do not think she spoke again."

"Did she die hardly?" I faltered amid my tears.

"As softly as a child falling asleep in his mother's arms," answered my
Lady Ashley. "We could not tell the very moment. Her life went out
like a star hidden behind a cloud. We only knew that it was gone."

"Farewell, sister of mine heart, my fair-souled Frances! The world is
darker now thou art thence; but thou shalt never see evil any more. The
storms shall not rave abo