and well-beloved aspect once again fixed in a stillness and composure
that I knew must be eternal, the tender eyes sealed away from mine
forever, the fine sensitive ear dull, expression obliterated! I flung
myself in a passion of grief across the coffin. I kissed the waxen face
and hands a thousand times and bathed them with scalding tears, then
stooping down to the dulled ear I whispered:

"Mamma! mamma! hear me, if your soul is still in your breast, as I
believe it is; I want to say something that will comfort you: I want to
promise you to take care of your little baby all my days and hers, to
divide all I have with her--to live for her, to die for her if such
need comes--never to leave her if I can help it, or to let any one
oppress her. Do you hear me, Mamma Constance?"

"What are you whispering about, Miriam?" said Mrs. Austin, drawing me
away grimly.

"There, did you see her smile?" I asked, as in my childish imagination
that sweet expression, that comes with the relaxation of the muscles to
some dead faces toward the last of earth, seemed to transfigure hers as
with an angel grace. "Her soul has not gone away yet," I murmured, "she
heard me, _she believed me_," and I clasped my hands tightly and sank on
my knees beside the coffin, devoutly thanking God for this great
consolation.

"Child, child, you are mad," she said, drawing me suddenly to my feet.
"Come away, Miriam, this is no place for you; I wonder at Dr. Pemberton!
That coffin ought to be closed at once, for decay has set in; and there
is no sense in supposing the spirit in the poor, crumbling body, when
such signs as these exist," and she pointed to two blue spots on the