As they stood there pressing each other's hands, the tears rolled freely down their cheeks.
"God bless you, my dears," said the bishop with feeble voice as he woke.

"God bless you--may God bless you both, my dear children." And so he died.
There was no loud rattle in the throat, no dreadful struggle, no palpable sign of death, but the lower jaw fell a little from its place, and the eyes which had been so constantly closed in sleep now remained fixed and open.

Neither Mr.Harding nor Dr.Grantly knew that life was gone, though both suspected it.
"I believe it's all over," said Mr.Harding, still pressing the other's hands.

"I think--nay, I hope it is." "I will ring the bell," said the other, speaking all but in a whisper.

"Mrs.Phillips should be here." Mrs.Phillips, the nurse, was soon in the room, and immediately, with practised hand, closed those staring eyes.
"It's all over, Mrs.Phillips ?" asked Mr.Harding.
"My lord's no more," said Mrs.Phillips, turning round and curtseying low with solemn face; "his lordship's gone more like a sleeping babby than any that I ever saw." "It's a great relief, Archdeacon," said Mr.Harding, "a great relief--dear, good, excellent old man.