ntion that, I will never marry again, dearest. I will
look forward with eagerness to our second meeting. I shall meet you
there, Annie," he said, and, pressing her hand between both his own,
he gazed earnestly into his wife's half-closed eyes.

Mrs. Mathers sank back on her pillow, exhausted with the effort
which she had made to speak those few words. Presently a change came
over her face. Her husband beckoned to Marie, the servant, who
hardly dared to approach, awed as she was at having to witness a
person in the grip of death.

The end came, swift and pangless. The soul passed from the body to
its eternal resting place.

Marie stood beside the bed, her big eyes fixed on the corpse, hardly
able to believe her senses.

"But, I thought Madame was better, much better," she said, half
aloud, half to herself.

"Ah! unfortunately," said the widower, "'twas only the lull before
the storm--a state which is common to people dying from consumption.
Make haste," he continued to the bewildered Abigail, "put the blinds
down."

Marie did as she was told and the man proceeded downstairs.

In the kitchen, seated on a chair, a boy was sobbing. His father had
just told him that death had visited them. And the boy felt
completely weighed down with grief. His mother had been so good to
him. "Such an excellent mother," he said to himself; "ah, how I
shall miss her."

He sobbed silently; the hot tears were few and far between. His
grief was too intense to be demonstrative.

He stayed there for fully an hour, in the same attitude, bowed down
as it were by this heavy load which had fallen upon him.

Let us go back into Frank Mathers' history--for Frank Mathers it was
who mourned his mother's loss--for a few years.

Mr. Mathers, his wife and only son were seated round the fire one
evening.

"You will be fourteen years of age to-morrow," said Frank's father,
"it is time for me to think of finding you a situation."

Frank did not answer, the idea of leaving school did not please him;
he looked up from his book for an instant, then pretended to resume
his reading.

"I shall talk to Mr. Baker, the grain merchant; as you have a liking
for books, I think you would do well in his office. Would you like
to go?" said his father.

"If you think I am old enough to leave school," mumbled Frank.

"Certainly you are old enough," said his father, "we can't afford to
keep you at school all your life."

Mrs. Mathers looked at her son sy