death came and froze her name upon his lips which never moved again, and
Lucy's work was done. Other hands than hers cared for the dead body,
which was embalmed, and then sent to its northern home.

There were crowds of people at the church where the funeral was held and
where Robin had been baptized. The son of Captain Grey was worthy of
respect, and the citizens turned out _en masse_, so that there was
scarcely standing room in the aisles for all who came to see the last of
Robin. Very touchingly the rector spoke of the deceased, whose short
life had been so pure and holy, and then he eulogized the sister who had
devoted herself so unselfishly to the helpless brother, and who, he
said, could have nothing to regret, nothing to wish undone, so absolute
and entire had been her sacrifice. Hitherto Lucy had sat as rigid as a
stone, but as she listened to her own praises she moved uneasily in her
seat, and once put up her hand deprecatingly as if imploring him to
stop. When at last the services were over, and the curious ones had
taken their last look at the dead, and the undertaker came forward to
close the coffin-lid, her mind, which had been strained to its utmost,
gave way, and not realizing what she did or meant to do, she arose
suddenly, and gliding swiftly past her father, stepped to the side of
the coffin, and throwing back her heavy crape vail; stooped and kissed
the eyelids of her brother, saying as she did so:

"Dear Robbie, can you see me now, and do you know what I am going to
do?"

There was a glitter in her eyes which told that she was half-crazed, and
her father arose to lead her to her seat beside him; but she waved him
back authoritatively, and in a clear, distinct voice, which rang like a
bell through the church, said to the astonished people: