And in a few minutes the angel of light--for such she was to the declining
man--glided to the dying bed. When she approached it his eyes were shut,
and his lips moved as if in prayer. At his side she stood, the faithful
tears pouring down her cheek, her voice suspended, lest a breath should
fall upon the sufferer and awaken him to pain. Quietly at last, as if from
sweetest sleep, his eyes unclosed, and, with a fond expression, fixed
themselves on _her_. Faster and faster streamed the unchecked tears adown
the lovely cheek, louder and louder grew the agonizing sobs that would not
be controlled. He took her drooping palm, pressed it as he might between
his bony hands, and covered it with kisses. Doctor Wilford silently
withdrew.

"Dear, good Margaret," the sick man faltered, "I shall lose you soon.
Heaven will bless you for your loving care."

"Take courage, dearest," was Margaret's reply; "all will yet be well."

"It will, beloved--but not here," he answered. "We shall meet again--be
sure of it. God is merciful, not cruel, and our happiness on earth has
been a foretaste of the diviner bliss hereafter. We are separated but for
an hour. Do not weep, my sweet one, but listen to me. It was my duty to
reward you, Margaret, for all that you have done for the infirm old man. I
have performed this duty. Every thing that I possess is yours! My will is
with my private papers in the desk. It will do you justice. Could I have
given you the wealth of India, you would have deserved it all."

Tears, tears were the heart's intense acknowledgment. What could she say
at such a time?

"I have thought fit, my Margaret, to burden you with no restrictions. I