Presently a loud, tremulous knock sounded through the hall, and in a few moments, pale and trembling with emotion, the husband and father entered the room. The state of the bed, the death-like face of his wife, and the silence overpowered him so completely, that but for the doctor's arm he would have fallen to the ground. "Is she dead?" he asked, for while in the train he had brought himself to believe that his daughter's telegram was merely caused by a child's fear and exaggeration; his wife's death-like appearance, therefore, was a shock for which he was quite unprepared. The invalid's eyes opened, and rested with loving pity on her husband. "I have lived to say good-by, darling," she said in a faint voice. "Thank God--I must speak, doctor," she continued--"I have been saving my strength for a few last words." "Fanny, my darling wife, I cannot lose you. Oh! I did not expect this, doctor. Can nothing be done?" Clara had moved to allow him to approach the pillow. He stooped and kissed the pale brow. Then seating himself on a chair by her side, he took her hand in his and buried his face in the pillow to conceal his agony. "Don't grieve, Arthur," said his wife, in whispered tones; "it has been hard to think of leaving you and the dear children, but I have learnt submission to our heavenly Father's will, and you must seek consolation from Him." Mabel had slidden from the bed when her father appeared, and the two girls now stood by him, as if by their presence they could console him and share his sorrow. For a few moments there was silence, while their mother lay with closed eyes. The sound of Mabel's hardly restrained sobs aroused her. "Do not weep, darling," she said; "you have both a father on earth to protect you, and a Father in heaven, more powerful than an earthly parent, to guide and comfort you. Never forget the lessons I have taught you of His love and tenderness to motherless children.--Arthur," she continued, "if you do not care to return to England again yourself, send my children to my home, will you?" "I promise you, darling, I will indeed," replied the stricken husband; "Australia will be a spot of desolation after you are gone." Again there was a silence. The doctor administered another stimulant, but no one spoke. Presently the nurse whispered, "Shall I take the young ladies away, doctor?" Dr. Moore glanced at them, but the white stern face of Clara Franklyn showed a power of endurance and strength to support her sister as well as herself through the last trying scene. He shook his head, but the invalid had heard the whisper. She opened her eyes and looked fondly at her girls. "Let them stay, nurse. Dear James, I wish he could have been sent for. Give him his mother's dying love, and----" But the voice failed.