The patient still grew worse--O, brightening prospect!--though, now and then, a cordial draught seemed to revive her so alarmingly, that Mrs.Tracy affectionately urging that the stimulants would be too exciting for the poor dear sufferer's nerves, induced Dr.Graves to discontinue them.

Then those fearful scintillations in her lamp of life grew fortunately duller, and the nurse was by her bed-side night and day; and the old aunt became more and more peevish, and was more and more spoken of by the Tracy family--in her possible hearing, as "that dear old soul"-- out of it, "that vile old witch." Charles, to be sure, was an exception in all this, as he ever was: for he took on him the Christian office of reading many prayers to the poor decaying creature, and (only that his father would not hear of such a thing) desired to have the vicar to assist him.

Emily also, full of sympathy, and disinterested care, would watch the fretful patient, hour after hour, in those long, dull nights of pain; and the poor, old, perishing sinner loved her coming, for she spoke to her the words of hope and resignation.

Whether that sweet missionary, scarcely yet a convert from her own dark creed--( Alas! the Amina had offered unto Juggernaut, and Emily of the strong hill-fort had scarcely heard of any truer God; and the fair girl was a woman-grown before, in her first earthly love, she also came to know the mercies Heaven has in store for us)--whether unto any lasting use she prayed and reasoned with that hard, dried heart, none but the Omniscient can tell.

Let us hope: let us hope; for the fretful voice was stilled, and the cloudy forehead brightened, and the haggard eyes looked cheerfully to meet the inevitable stroke of death.