of Paulina Maria, to set the house in order. It was quite late that
night before Jerome was at liberty to creep off to his own bed up in
the slanting back chamber. Paulina Maria and Belinda Lamb had gone
home, and the bereaved family were all alone in the house. Jerome's
boyish heart ached hard, but he was worn out physically, and he soon
fell asleep.

About midnight he awoke with a startling sound in his ears. He sat up
in bed and listened, straining ears and eyes in the darkness. Out of
the night gloom and stillness below came his mother's voice, raised
loud and hoarse in half-accusatory prayer, not caring who heard, save
the Lord.

"What hast thou done, O Lord?" demanded this daring and pitiful
voice. "Why hast thou taken away from me the husband of my youth?
What have I done to deserve it? Haven't I borne patiently the yoke
Thou laidst upon me before? Why didst Thou try so hard one already
broken on the wheel of Thy wrath? Why didst Thou drive a good man to
destruction? O Lord, give me back my husband, if Thou art the Lord!
If Thou art indeed the Almighty, prove it unto me by working this
miracle which I ask of Thee! Give me back Abel! give him back!"

Ann's voice arose with a shriek; then there was silence for a little
space. Presently she spoke again, but no longer in prayer--only in
bitter, helpless lament. She used no longer the formal style of
address to a Divine Sovereign; she dropped into her own common
vernacular of pain.

"It ain't any use! it ain't any use!" she wailed out. "If there is a
God He won't hear me, He won't help me, He won't bring him back. He