"Go home, young man! It is too late! Do not seek to agitate the waters long troubled by your hand, but now subsiding into calmness.

Let her spirit depart in peace." Florence sunk again into his chair, and, hiding his face with his hands, sat for some moments in a state of a mental paralysis.
In the chamber above lay the pale, almost pulseless form of Edith.

A young girl, who had been as her sister for many years, sat holding her thin white hand.

The face of the invalid was turned to the wall.
Her eyes were closed; and she breathed so quietly that the motions of respiration could hardly be seen.

Nearly ten minutes had elapsed from the time a servant whispered to the aunt that there was some one in the parlor, when Edith turned, and said to her companion, in a low, calm voice-- "Mr.Florence has come." The girl started, and a flush of surprise went over her face.
"He is in the parlor now.