; she had waited in faith, in patience,
in meek submission, until now her long widowhood was over; and what
better for her could those who most loved her desire, than that she
should safely sleep in the chancel of the Church of her childhood, close
to him whom she had so loved and so mourned, until the time when both
should once more awaken,--the corruptible should put on incorruption,
the mortal should put on immortality, and death be swallowed up in
victory.

Something of this was what Henrietta began to feel; and though the tears
flowed fast, they were not the bitter drops of personal sorrow. She was
enabled to bear, without the agony she had expected, the standing round
the grave in the chancel; nor did her heart swell rebelliously against
the expression that it was "in great mercy that the soul of this our
dear sister" was taken, even though she shrank and shivered at the sound
of the earth cast in, which would seem to close up from her for ever
the most loved and loving creature that she would ever know. No, not for
ever,--might she too but keep her part in Him Who is the Resurrection
and the Life--might she be found acceptable in His sight, and receive
the blessing to be pronounced to all that love and fear Him.

It was over: they all stood round for a few minutes. At last Mr.
Langford moved; Henrietta was also obliged to turn away, but before
doing so, she raised her eyes to her father's name, to take leave of him
as it were, as she always did before going out of Church. She met her
Uncle Geoffrey's eye as she did so, and took his arm; and as soon as
she was out of the church, she said almost in a whisper, "Uncle, I don't
wish for him now."

He pressed her arm, and looked most kindly at her, but he did not speak,
for he could hardly command his voice; and he saw, too, that she might
safely be trusted to the influences of that only true consolation which
was coming upon her.

They came home--to the home that looked as if it would fain be once more
cheerful, with the front window blinds drawn up again, and the solemn
stillness no longer observed. Henrietta hastened up to her own room,
for she could not bear to show herself to her brother in her long crape
veil. She threw her bonnet off, knelt down for a few minutes, but rose
on hearing the approach of Beatrice, who still shared the same room.
Beatrice came in, and looked at her for a few moments, as if doubtful
how to address her; but at last she put her hand