her sister was two years younger. By a singular
coincidence, Grace resembled the women of my family most; while the
latter, the dear, ingenuous, frank, pretty little thing, had so much
likeness to her mother, when at the same time of life, that I often caught
her in my arms, and kissed her, as she uttered some honest sentiment, or
laughed joyously and melodiously, as had been the practice of her who bore
her, twenty years before. On those occasions, Lucy would smile, and
sometimes a slight blush would suffuse her face; for I could see she well
understood the impulse which would so suddenly carry me off to the days of
my boyhood and boyish affection.

On the present solemn occasion both the girls were in the cabin,
struggling to be calm, and doing all that lay in their power to solace the
dying man. Grace, the oldest, was the most active and efficient, of
course, her tender years inducing diffidence in her sister; still, that
little image of her mother could not be kept entirely in the back-ground,
when the heart and the desire to be useful were urging her to come out of
herself, in order to share in her sister's duties.

I found Marble quite sensible, and the anxious manner in which he slowly
examined all the interested faces that were now gathered about his bed,
proved how accurately he noted the present and the absent. Twice did he go
over us all, ere he spoke in the husky tones that usually precede death--

"Call Neb," he said--"took leave of my mates, and of all the rest of the
men, yesterday; but I consider Neb as one of the family, Miles, and left
him for the last."

This I knew to be true, though I purposely absented myself from a scene
that I well understood would have to be repeated in my case. Neb was
summoned accordingly, not a syllable being uttered among us, until the
black stood just without the circle of my own wife and children. Moses
watched the arrangement jealously, and it seems he was dissatisfied at
seeing his old shipmate keeping so much aloof at that solemn and
absorbing moment.

"You are but a nigger, I know, Neb," the old seaman got out, "but your
heart would do honour to a king. It's next to Miles's, and that's as much
as can be said of any man's. Come nearer, boy; none here will grudge you
the liberty."

Little Lucy drew back in an instant, and fairly pulled Neb into the place
she herself had just before occupied.

"Bless you for that, young 'un," said Marble. "I didn't know your mothe