further resistance, as it was now impossible to convince her uncle of
his error."




CHAPTER XI.

"He's gone--his soul hath ta'en its earthless flight,
Whither? I dread to think--but he is gone!"

BYRON.


Mr. Hamilton, though perfectly conscious that his end was rapidly
approaching, had scrupulously avoided the subject in the presence of
the girls. One morning, after a night of more than ordinary suffering,
he lay quite exhausted. Death was at hand, and feeling intuitively
that the appointed hour had arrived, he requested all to withdraw,
save Florence. When they were alone, he laid his hand on her head, and
said, in a low, feeble tone--"Florence, I am going. I cannot survive
this day, and I wish to give you my last advice. I am afraid your lot
will be a hard one, when I am gone; trials without number are in store
for you. Oh! my proudhearted, beautiful Florence, what will become
of you now?" He covered his face with his hands a moment, then
continued--"I do not wish you to return to your native place. My child
must be dependent on no one, yet to leave you here so unprotected,
is hard indeed. Dr. Bryant has promised to watch over you, and the
Carltons are kind friends. Florence you must depend upon yourself.
Thank God, you are strong-minded, and Mary, our kind, good Mary, will