emaciated hand might have seemed incapable, exclaimed in a hollow, yet fierce, tone:
"The lids are closed, we shall never look on those sweet faces again. Ask of your own heart if you deserve to see them—She who is now an angel in heaven spent her last breath in blessing you. Would she have so blessed you, think ye, had she known that, pass away but a few fleeting months, and another would take her place, at your side, and in your house? That her children would be given over to a stranger, till they sickened for want of those kind words which they never heard but from the mouth of the old Indian woman. Had you gone down to the grave first, would she have so forgotten your memory; would she have so deserted your children?" Mr. Dalton leant against the mantel-piece, and Eda saw a convulsion of subdued agony pass over the face, which he immediately concealed—again she laid her hand upon his arm, but this time the touch was light, and the voice was subdued and broken: "Husband of her whom I loved even
