You will remember me kindly for Frank's sake?
Poor Frank! why does he hide his face?
Is he crying?
Nearer, Clara--I want to look my last at _you_.

My sister, Clara! Kiss me, sister, kiss me before I die!" She stooped and kissed his forehead.

A faint smile trembled on his lips.

It passed away; and stillness possessed the face--the stillness of Death.
Crayford's voice was heard in the silence.
"The loss is ours," he said.

"The gain is his.