But the dying man shook his head, and again attempted to speak. “Look in the—” but again the word died away, and though the anxious girl laid her ear close to the blue and stiffening lips, she was unable to catch a shadow of the sound which they emitted. After lying a few minutes as if to collect the small portion of strength yet remaining, the sufferer made another effort, and again Lucy put her ear to his now cold lips, and stretched every faculty to catch the sound, far more, however, for the sake of satisfying him, than on account of the money itself; but the word “in” was all she could distinguish. Distressed beyond measure at seeing his ineffectual efforts, she cried, “Don’t attempt to speak, dear papa, but let me guess, and if I am right only make a motion of assent.” She then guessed the breakfast-table drawer, the drawer in her own work-box, and a variety of similar places, but received no intimation in return. Whilst thus engaged the physician arrived, who, struck with the extreme stillness of his patient, endeavored to raise his head, but in so doing he found that life was already extinct, and the spirit which had made its last effort in an attempt to aid a fellow-creature, had burst its prison bars. We pass over the grief of the mourning family. Those who have never experienced such an affliction could have little idea of it from our description, and those who have already tasted the bitter cup, have no need of any thing to give clearness to their perceptions. Suffice it, then, to say, that after the first paroxysms of grief were over, Lucy’s mind reverted to the state of her friends from whom she had received many kind and sympathizing messages, and assurances that nothing but severe sickness would have prevented Mrs. Horton from offering them in person. After some consideration about how she should act, Lucy determined it would only be right to inform Norman of her father’s ineffectual efforts to serve him, and for this purpose she sent a request that he would call upon her. He was not long obeying the summons, and entered the room with a countenance little less agitated than her own. “I would not have waited to be told to come,” said he, in a tone of deep feeling, “had I not been afraid of my visit being attributed to a selfish motive.” “I know well that selfishness forms no part of your character,” replied Lucy, making a strong effort to speak with composure; “but though my poor father was deprived of the pleasure of serving you, I was anxious you should know that his very last efforts were made in your behalf. Could I have made out his last words, you might still have had the assistance you require.” “I beg you will not trouble yourself any more about the matter,” returned Horton, endeavoring to speak cheerfully. “The worst, I believe, is now over, for the sheriff is already in possession of the place.” “And your mother?” said Lucy, raising her soft eyes in anxious suspense to his face.