"No, Miss, only to-day, and not as you thinks; no fit at all, nor paralyatic stroke. He went off quiet as a lamb, as near as could be three o’clock. He was very poorly before; but he had a deal to do, and would not give in on no account. He was sitting by himself in the study after breakfast, and at last he rang the bell, and told them to send me up. When I went in, he was bolt upright in his chair, with a beautiful smile on his face, but so pale, white I ought to say, Miss, and so weak he could hardly move. ’John,’ he says, ’Yes, Sir,’ says I; ’John,’ he says again, ’you are a most respectable man, and I can trust you with anything in the world, John. Take this letter for Miss Vaughan, and put it with your own hands into her own, directly the moment she comes back. I am rather uneasy about the poor girl,’ he says, as it were to himself. ’Which Miss Vaughan, Sir?’ says I. ’Your mistress, John. Can’t you see what is written on it? And now help me upstairs; and if ever I spoke to you harshly, John Hoxton, I ask your pardon for it. You will find as I haven’t forgotten you.’ And with that I helped him upstairs, Miss, and I had almost to carry him; and then he says, ’Help me to bed, John. I would like to die in my bed, and it will save some trouble. And let me look out of the window; what a lovely day it is, it reminds me quite of the South. So I set him up in the bed, Miss, handy altogether, and beautiful, and he could see two larks on the lawn, and he asked me what they was. Then he says, ’Thank you, John, you have done it wonderful well, and I hope they won’t speak evil of me round this place, after I am gone. I have tried to do my duty, John, as between man and man: though I would be softer with them, if I had my time over again. Now send my daughter to me, though I wish I had seen my son, John. But I ought to be very thankful, and what’s more, I am. All of you likes Miss Lily, unless they tell me stories, John.’ ’Sir,’ says I, ’we wusships her, though not like our own Miss Vaughan.’" Ah, John Hoxton, did you say that to him, I wonder, or interpolate, _ex post facto_? "So he looked very pleased at that, Miss, and he says again, ’John, let all that love her know that she is the living image of her mother. Now go and send her quickly; but John, take care not to frighten my little darling.’ So I went and found Miss Lily got along with the Shetland pony and giving it bits of clover, and I sent her up and Jane too, for I was dreadfully frightened, and you away, Miss, at the time. And what come afterwards I can’t tell, only no luncheon went up, and there was orders not to ring the bell for the servants’ dinner; and I heard poor Miss Lily crying terrible all along the corridor, and I did hear say that his last words was, and he trying to raise his arms toward the window, ’Blessed be God, I can see my own Lily,’ but she warn’t that side of the bed, Miss; so he must have made some mistake."