Now, Traverse had never in his life before heard the name of Colonel Le Noir; and, therefore, was in no position to warn the dying father who placed so much confidence in the high reputation of his brother-in-law that his trust was miserably misplaced; that he was leaving his fair daughter and her large fortune to the tender mercies of an unscrupulous villain and a consummate hypocrite. So he merely promised to deliver the message with which he was charged by the dying father for his daughter's guardian, and added that he had no doubt but Clara's uncle would consider that message a sacred command and obey it to the letter. As the sun was now well up, the doctor consented that Mrs. Rocke and his daughter should be admitted. Marah brought with her some wine-whey that her patient drank, and from which he received temporary strength. Clara was pale but calm; one could see at a glance that the poor girl was prepared for the worst, and had nerved her gentle heart to bear it with patience. "Come hither, my little Clara," said the doctor, as soon as he had been revived by the whey. Clara came and kissed his brow and sat beside him with her hands clasped in his. "My little girl, what did our Saviour die for? First to redeem us, and also to teach us by His burial and resurrection that death is but a falling asleep in this world and an awakening in the next. Clara, after this, when you think of your father, do not think of him as lying in the grave, for he will not be there in his vacated body, no more than he will be in the trunk with his cast-off entries. As the coat is the body's covering, so the body is the soul's garment, and it is the soul that is the innermost and real man; it is my soul that is me; and that will not be in the earth, but in heaven; therefore, do not think of me gloomily as lying in the grave, but cheerfully as living in heaven--as living there with God and Christ and His saints, and with your mother, Clara, the dear wife of my youth, who has been waiting for me these many years. Think of me as being happy in that blessed society. Do not fancy that it is your duty to grieve, but, on the contrary, know that it is your duty to be as cheerful and happy as possible. Do you heed me, my daughter?" "Oh, yes, yes, dear father!" said Clara, heroically repressing her grief. "Seek for yourself, dear child, a nearer union with Christ and God. Seek it, Clara, until the spirit of God shall bear witness with your spirit that you are as a child of God; so shall you, as you come to lie where I do now, be able to say of your life and death, as I say with truth of mine: The journey has been pleasant, but the goal is blessed." The doctor pressed his daughter's hand and dropped suddenly into an easy sleep. Mrs. Rocke drew Clara away, and the room was very still. Sweet, beautiful and lovely as is the death-bed of a Christian, we will not linger too long beside it.