The sudden breakdown had called attention to the state of Miggles's heart, which had troubled her at times for some years back. The result was serious, so serious that the doctor had warned her that her days of active service were over. Henceforth she must be content to live an idle life, in some quiet country spot, where she would be free from the bustle and excitement of town life. Mr and Mrs Goring proposed that she should live in the Cottage at Seacliff, where the capable woman who acted as caretaker could wait upon her and do the work of the house, and Miggles, as usual, was full of gratitude for the suggestion. "A haven, my dear, opened out to me at the very moment I need it," she said ardently to Vanna. "It's been like that with me all my life. Goodness and mercy! I've always loved that dear little house by the sea; there's no place on earth where I would rather end my days. The doctor says I shall go off quite suddenly. He didn't want to tell me, but I explained that I was not at all afraid. From battle, murder, and _lingering_ death, that's the way I've always said it--not that I wish to put myself above the Prayer Book, but one must be honest, and that's how I felt in my heart. I've no claim upon any one, and a long, expensive illness is a great drag. I'd be so ashamed! `Our times are in His hand,' my dear; but if it's not presumptuous, I hope He'll take me soon. Next summer, perhaps, before the boys want to come down for the holidays. I should like to have the winter just to be quiet and prepare. June, now! June would be a sweet month to pass away in. Would it not, my dear?" "Miggles!" cried Vanna, half laughing, half in tears. "Miggles, how can you be so callous? I absolutely refuse to discuss the date of your death. It's not a cheerful subject for us, whatever it may be for you; and I hope you'll be spared for a long, long rest after your busy life. How can you talk about dying in that matter-of-fact way, as if it were a removal from one house to another? Have you no dread, not of the mere act of death--that is often a real `falling asleep,' but of the leap in the dark, the unknown change, the mystery behind?" Miggles lay back against her pillow, a large, unwieldy figure, with thin bands of hair brushed back beneath an old-fashioned night-cap, her hands clasped peacefully on her knee. "No, my dear," she said tranquilly; "the mystery doesn't trouble me. I'm a poor, weak creature, and I was never clever at understanding. I only know that it's going to be a change for the better, so of course I'm ready to go. When I hear people talk of shrinking and trembling at the thought of death, I think they can't really believe what they profess, or why should they prefer to live on, lonely, and suffering, and poor, rather than make a little journey to gain peace and rest? It's not reason, my dear, it's not reason."