At last, toward morning, the storm gradually lulled.

She rose, and looked out of her window on the loch, which glittered in moonlight like a sea of glass.

It reminded her, with an involuntary fancy, of the sea "clear as glass, like unto crystal," spoken of in the fourth chapter of the Apocalypse as being "before the Throne." She stood looking at it for a minute or so, then went back to her bed and slept peacefully till daylight.
She was dressing herself, full of quiet and happy thoughts, admiring the rosy winter sunrise, and planning all she meant to do that day, when she was startled by Mrs.Campbell, who came suddenly into the room with a face as white and rigid as marble.
"He's awa'," she said, or rather whispered.
"Who's is away ?" shrieked Helen, thinking at once of her father.
"Whisht!" said the old nurse, catching hold of Mrs.Bruce as she was rushing from the room, and speaking beneath her breath; "wisht! My lord's deid; but we'll no greet; I canna greet.

He's gane awa' hame." No, it was not the old man who was called.

Mr.Cardross lived several years after then--lived to be nearly ninety.