so loud and wildly, that a pause followed it, and, as if with one
consentaneous movement, they all assembled about her. Their appearance,
however, seemed to bring her to herself, for with her left hand she
wafted them away, saying, "Leave us--leave us--this is a day of sorrow
to us--the day will end, but when, when, alas, will the sorrow? Papa,
some of us will need your prayers now--the sunshine of Jane's life is
over--I am the Fawn of Springvale no more--my time with the holy
and affectionate flock of whom I was and am an unworthy one, will be
short--I may be with you a day, as it were, the next is come and Jane is
gone for ever."

"Father," said Osborne, "I shall not go;" and as he spoke he pressed her
to his bosom--"I will never leave her."

The boy's tears fell rapidly upon her pale cheeks, and on feeling them
she looked up and smiled.

The sobbings of the family were loud, and bitter were the tears which
the tender position of the young and beautiful pair wrung from the
eyes that looked upon them. "Your health, my boy," said his father, "my
beautiful and only boy, render it necessary that you should go. It is
but for a time, Jane dear, my daughter, my boy's beloved, it is only for
a time--let him leave you for a little, and he will return confirmed
in health and knowledge, and worthy my dear, dear girl, to be yours for
ever."

"My daughter," said Mr. Sinclair, "was once good and obedient, and she
will now do whatever is her own papa's wish."

"Name it, papa, name it," said she, still smiling.