coming from under a green shade, and
connected with eyes you cannot meet, and features that are always
hidden. Beyond that shade we never saw to the day of his death.

"This occurred about four years after we first knew them. I well
remember the visit of condolence on which I accompanied my mother, the
bitter grief of the sisters, and the slow dropping of Miss Mary's
tears on to her black dress. Wonderful indeed is love! The most
talented and charming companion in the world could not have filled to
them the place of the helpless, uninteresting invalid who had passed
away.

"The Misses Brooke caused a commotion in the gossiping world of our
little town by going to the funeral. It was not the custom for ladies
to go to funerals, and, as a general rule, the timid sisters would not
have ventured to act against public opinion; but on this occasion they
were resolute. To hear the voice of authority meet them with the very
words wherewith Divine lips had comforted those other sisters, would
comfort them, as nothing else could. I remember how from a window we
watched the funeral with childish awe and curiosity--the thrill with
which we heard a maid announce 'the coffin,' and caught sight of the
flapping pall, and tried to realize that old Mr. Brooke was
underneath. Then close behind it came the two figures we knew so well,
veiled, black, and bent, and clinging together in the agony of that
struggle between faith and loss which every loving soul is some time
called on to endure. As we leant out of the open window, crying
bitterly in sympathy with them, and with the gloomy excitement of the
occasion, they raised themselves a little and walked more steadily.
The Rector's clear voice was cutting the air with the pathos of an
unusual sympathy.

'I am the Resurrection and the Life--saith the Lord.'

"I understood then, and have never wondered since, how it was that the
Misses Brooke braved the gossip of the neighbourhood, and followed
their brother's body to the grave.

"These good people were, as I have said, our chief friends; but Reka
Dom itself afforded us ample amusement. The six children who had lived
there before us were a source of unfailing interest. The old woman of
the house remained about the place for a short time in the capacity of
charwoman, and she suffered many inquiries on our part as to the
names, ages, and peculiarities of our predecessors. As she had
'charred' for them, she was able to satisfy our cur