"Pray! Only first--my love to Cecil. I hope she is still
young enough not to have had all her life spoilt. Is her father
coming?"
"To-morrow," said Anne.
"That's well. Poor child! she is better free."
How piteously sad those words of one wedded but a year! How unlike
the look that met his mother's woeful yet tender eyes, as she held
his hand. She would aid him through that last passage as through
all before, only a word of strong and tender love, as he again
looked up to Julius and Anne, as if to put her in their keeping, and
once more murmured something of "Love to sweet Rose! Now, Julius,
pray!"
An ever dutiful man, there was no wandering in look or tone. He
breathed 'Amen' once or twice, but never moved again, only his eyes
still turned on his mother, and so in its time came the end.
Old Susan saw at first that the long fluttering gasp had no
successor, and her touch certified Julius. He rose and went towards
his mother. She held out her hands and said. "Take me to my
Frank."
"We had better," whispered Anne.
They wheeled her to the foot of the stairs.
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