God would not take both! George is not dead!" I
cried, trying in vain to arouse her from her horrible state or bring
one ray of reason to her eye. I spoke to a body alive only to pain; not
a sound of my voice seemed to reach her; only fearful moans showed she
was yet alive.

Miriam lay raving on the ground. Poor Miriam! her heart's idol torn
away. God help my darling! I did not understand that George _could_ die
until I looked at her. In vain I strove to raise her from the ground,
or check her wild shrieks for death. "George! only George!" she would
cry; until at last, with the horror of seeing both die before me, I
mastered strength enough to go for the servant and bid her run quickly
for Brother.

How long I stood there alone, I never knew. I remember Ada coming in
hurriedly and asking what it was. I told her George was dead. It was a
relief to see her cry. I could not; but I felt the pain afresh, as
though it were her brother she was crying over, not mine. And the sight
of her tears brought mine, too. We could only cry over mother and
Miriam; we could not rouse them; we did not know what to do.

Some one called me in the entry. I went, not understanding what I was
doing. A lady came to me, told me her name, and said something about
George; but I could not follow what she said. It was as though she was
talking in a dream. I believe she repeated the words several times, for
at last she shook me and said, "Listen! Rouse yourself! the letter is
about George!" Yes, I said; he is dead. She said I must read the
letter; but I could not see, so she read it aloud. It was from Dr.
Mitchell, his friend who was with him when he died, telling of his
sickness and death. He died on Tuesday the 12th of January, after an
illness of six days, conscious to the last and awaiting the end as only
a Christian, and one who has led so beautiful a life, could, with the
Grace of God, look for it. He sent messages to his brothers and
sisters, and bade them tell his mother his last thoughts were of her,
and that he died trusting in the mercy of the Saviour. George! our
pride! our beautiful, angel brother! _Could_ he die? Surely God has
sent all these afflictions within these three years to teach us that
our hopes must be placed Above, and that it is blasphemy to have
earthly idols!

The letter said that the physicians had mistaken his malady, which was
inflammation of the bowels, and he had died from being treated for
something else. It seem