"I wish she would wake," at last said Julia, and, stooping down, kissed the cold white hand extended over the shroud. Ellen did the same thing, and both started back at the icy chill. It would seem as if the sight and touch of death brought its own mysterious consciousness. The two children stood, pale and awe-struck, gazing on the well known, yet unafmiliar, face that, cold and ghastly, now answered not to their looks again. They passed their little arms around each other, and clinging together, with a sweet sense of companionship, neither spoke nor moved for a considerable time; at last Ellen, still holding her sister's hand, knelt down, and whispered, "Let us say our prayers." And the two orphans repeated, beside their mother's coffin, the infantine petitions they had learnt beside that mother's knee.
They were thus employed when Eda entered the chamber. Her step disturbed them, and they ran towards her, and, throwing themselves into her arms, began to weep bitterly. It was remarkable
