poor soul, with this fresh stroke threatening her? As I opened the door
I heard her calling to me in a voice broken with sobs.

'Oh, Miss Garston, I have been longing for you to come to me; you have
been here for hours. I have been lying listening to your footsteps
overhead. Do you know, the suspense is killing me?'

'Yes, I am so sorry for you, Phoebe: it is hard to bear, is it not?
But I could not leave your sister. We are doing all we can to ease her
sufferings, but she is very very ill.'

'Do you think that I do not know that? She is dying! My only sister is
dying!' And here her tears burst out again. 'Ah, Miss Garston, those
dreadful words are coming true, after all.'

'What words, my poor Phoebe?' And I knelt down by her side and smoothed
the hair from her damp forehead.

'Oh, you know what I mean. I have repeated them before; they haunt me day
and night, and you refused to take them back. "If we will not lie still
under His hand, and learn the lesson He would teach us, fresh trials may
be sent to humble us,"--fresh trials; and, oh, my God, Susan is dying!'

'You must not say that to her nurse, Phoebe; you must try and strengthen
my hands: indeed, all hope is not lost: the inflammation is very high,
but who knows if your prayers may not save her?'

'My prayers! my prayers!' covering her face while the tears trickled
through her wasted fingers; 'as though God would listen to me who have
been a rebel all my life.'

'Ah, but you are not rebellious now: you have fought against Him all
these years, but now all His waves and billows have gone over your head,
and you cannot breast them alone.'

'No, and I have deserved it all. I do try to pray, Miss Garston, I do
indeed, but the words will not come. I can only say over and over again,
"Father, I have sinned against heaven and before thee," and then I stop
and my heart seems breaking.'

'Well, and what can be better than that cry of your poor despairing heart
to your Father! Do you think that He will not have pity on His suffering
child? Be generous in your penitence, Phoebe, and trust yourself and
Susan in His hands.'

'Ah, but you do not know all,' she continued, fixing her miserable eyes
on me. 'I have not been good to Susan: I have let her sacrifice her life
for me, and have taken it all as a matter of course. I made her bear all
my bad tempers and never gave her a good word. She was too tired,--ah,
she was often tired,--and then she took this chill, and