al place; but Chloe, who was accustomed to pass often between
her young mistress and a certain closet, at that meal, which never seemed
to have all we wanted arranged on the table at first, was absent, as was
that precious "young mistress" herself. "Gracious Providence!" I mentally
ejaculated, "is it thy will it should _ever_ be thus? Am I _never_ again
to see those dove-like eyes turned on me in sisterly affection from the
head of my table, as I have so often seen them, on hundreds and hundreds
of occasions?" Lucy's spirits had sometimes caused her to laugh merrily;
and her musical voice once used to mingle with Rupert's and my own more
manly and deeper notes, in something like audible mirth; not that Lucy was
ever boisterous or loud; but, in early girlhood, she had been gay and
animated, to a degree that often blended with the noisier clamour of us
boys. With Grace, this had never happened. She seldom spoke, except in
moments when the rest were still; and her laugh was rarely audible, though
so often heartfelt and joyous. It may seem strange to those who have never
suffered the pang of feeling that such a customary circle was broken up
forever; but, that morning, the first in which I keenly felt that my
sister was lost to me, I actually missed her graceful, eloquent, silence!

"Miles," said Lucy, as she rose from the table, tears trembling on her
eyelids as she spoke, "half an hour hence come to the family room. Grace
wishes to see you _there_ this morning, and I have not been able to deny
her request. She is weak, but thinks the visit will do her good. Do not
fail to be punctual, as waiting might distress her. Good morning, dearest
papa; when I want _you_, I will send for you."

Lucy left us with these ominous notices, and I felt the necessity of going
on the lawn for air. I walked my half-hour out, and returned to the house
in time to be punctual to the appointment. Chloe met me at the door, and
led the way in silence towards the family room. Her hand was no sooner
laid on the latch than Lucy appeared, beckoning me to enter. I found Grace
reclining on that small settee, or _causeuse_, on which we had held our
first interview, looking pallid and uneasy, but still looking lovely and
as ethereal as ever. She held out a hand affectionately, and then I saw
her glance towards Lucy, as if asking to be left with me alone. As for
myself, I could not speak. Taking my old place, I drew my sister's head on
my bosom, and sat hold