silent blessing, on the bowed head of her young descendant, and
so, with a radiant smile, passed away heavenward.

"She's dropped asleep, my dear," said honest, stupid John Lytton,
bending over to look at the closed eyes and peaceful face.

"She has fainted. This has been too much for her," said Mrs. Fanning,
catching up the vial of ammonia and coming with the intention of
administering it.

"She is neither sleeping nor swooning. She has risen," said Emma.

And, calmly putting aside the useless drug, she arose and reverently
pressed a kiss upon the lifeless lips.

A moment of deep silence followed her words.

Then Dr. Jones, the son, himself an aged man, drew near and tenderly
took up the lifeless hand and looked into the motionless face, and with
a profound sigh turned away.

While this group was still gathered around the chair of death, the door
was silently opened and the family physician entered the room and stood
among them.

"She is gone, Doctor Willet," said the son, turning to greet the
new-comer.

The physician nodded gravely to the sorrowing speaker, bowed to the
assembled friends, and passed through them, as they made way for him to
approach the body. He felt the wrist, where there was no pulse, looked
into the eyes, where there was no light, and then, with a grave and
silent nod, he confirmed the opinion of Dr. Jones.

Electra, who had been incredulous all this time about the reality of the
death, and was anxiously watching the face of the physician, now burst
into violent weeping, and had to be led from the room by Joseph
Brent--Victor Hartman.

Emma stood, pale as marble, with her eyes cast down, her lips lightly
pressed together, and her hands closely clasped.

"Take your young bride away also, Mr. Lytton. She is exerting great
self-command now; but she can not much longer control her feelings,"
said Dr. Willet.

"Come, love," whispered the bridegroom, as he passed his arm gently
around the waist of the now weeping girl and drew her away from the
scene of death.

Mr. John Lytton followed them out, with the half-frightened air of a
culprit stealing away from detection.

There now remained in the room of death the aged son, Dr. Beresford
Jones, the family physician, Dr. Willet, the minister of the parish, the
Rev. Mr. Lyle, and the two ladies, Mrs. Fanning and Laura Lytton.

"She passed away very gently, without the least suffering," said Mrs.
Fanning.

"I thought she would do so. Her