up in a storm of passionate woe, and she sprang to her feet, almost
frantic with the sense of her loss:

"All alone! nobody to love me; nothing to look forward to! Oh.
grandpa! did you hear me praying for you yesterday? Dear Grandy--my
own dear Grandy! I did pray for you while you were dying--here
alone! Oh, my God! what have I done, that you should take him away
from me? Was not I on my knees when he died? Oh! what will become of
me now? Nobody to care for Edna now! Oh, grandpa! grandpa! beg Jesus
to ask God to take me too!" And throwing up her clasped hands, she
sank back insensible on the shrouded form of the dead.

"When some beloved voice that was to you
Both sound and sweetness, faileth suddenly,
And silence against which you dare not cry,
Aches round you like a strong disease and new--
What hope? what help? what music will undo
That silence to your senses? Not friendship's sigh,
Not reason's subtle count. Nay, none of these!
Speak Thou, availing Christ! and fill this pause."




CHAPTER III.


Of all that occurred during many ensuing weeks Edna knew little. She
retained, in after years, only a vague, confused remembrance of keen
anguish and utter prostration, and an abiding sense of irreparable