Desire rushed down among them; past Mrs. Prendible, past the
minister, straight to Kenneth Kincaid.

Kenneth took her right in his arms, and carried her into a little
room below.

"There could have been no pain," he said, tenderly. "It was the
accident of a moment. Be strong,--be patient, dear!"

There had been tender words natural to his lips lately. It was not
strange that in his great pity he used them now.

"My father!" gasped Desire.

"Yes; your father. It was our Father's will."

"Help me to go to my mother!"

She took his hand, half blind, almost reeling.

And then they all, somehow, found themselves up-stairs.

There were moans of pain; there were words of prayer. We have no
right there. It is all told.

* * * * *

"Be strong,--be patient, dear!"