"God bless you, my dears," said the bishop with feeble voice as he
woke. "God bless you--may God bless you both, my dear children."
And so he died.

There was no loud rattle in the throat, no dreadful struggle, no
palpable sign of death, but the lower jaw fell a little from its
place, and the eyes which had been so constantly closed in sleep now
remained fixed and open. Neither Mr. Harding nor Dr. Grantly knew
that life was gone, though both suspected it.

"I believe it's all over," said Mr. Harding, still pressing the
other's hands. "I think--nay, I hope it is."

"I will ring the bell," said the other, speaking all but in a
whisper. "Mrs. Phillips should be here."

Mrs. Phillips, the nurse, was soon in the room, and immediately, with
practised hand, closed those staring eyes.

"It's all over, Mrs. Phillips?" asked Mr. Harding.

"My lord's no more," said Mrs. Phillips, turning round and curtseying
low with solemn face; "his lordship's gone more like a sleeping babby
than any that I ever saw."

"It's a great relief, Archdeacon," said Mr. Harding, "a great
relief--dear, good, excellent old man. Oh that our last moments may
be as innocent and as peaceful as his!"

"Surely," said Mrs. Phillips. "The Lord be praised for all his