We entered the cottage and found ourselves in a cosy little room, where, on a low bed, a pale, intelligent looking young man lay, evidently dying. He was very much emaciated, his eyes, wonderfully large and luminous, were sunken, and his breathing quick and difficult. A haggard, watching-worn woman sat by his bed. From her resemblance to him I took her to be his sister. She was evidently very unwell herself. We sat in silence by his bedside, watching his life flow into eternity, till the little clock on the mantel struck, sharp and clear, the hour of ten. The sound of the bell startled the sick man, and after some incoherent mumbling he said, quite distinctly: "Sister, if you ever again see Ollie Afton, tell him--tell her--tell, say I forgive him--say to her--him--I loved her all my life--tell him--ah! what was I saying? Don't cry, sis, please. What a sweet, faithful sister! Ah! it's almost over, dear----Ah, me!" For some minutes the sister's sobbing echoed strangely through the house. The dying man drew his head far down in the soft pillow. A breath of damp air stole through the room. All at once, right under the window by which the bed sat, arose a touching guitar prelude--a tangled mesh of melody--gusty, throbbing, wandering through the room and straying off into the night, tossing back its trembling echoes fainter and fainter, till, as it began to die, that same splendid alto voice caught the key and flooded the darkness with song. The sick man raised himself on his elbow, and his face flashed out the terrible smile of death. He listened eagerly. It was the song "Come Where my Love lies Dreaming," but who has heard it rendered as it was that night? Every chord of the voice was as sweet and witching as a wind harp's, and the low, humming undertone of the accompaniment was perfection. Tenderly but awfully sweet, the music at length faded into utter silence, and Berry Young sank limp and pallid upon his pillows. "It is Ollie," he hoarsely whispered. "Tell her--tell him--O say to her for me--ah! water, sis, it's all over!" The woman hastened, but before she could get the water to his lips he was dead. His last word was Ollie. The sister cast herself upon the dead man's bosom and sobbed wildly, piteously. Soon after this some neighbors came in, which gave me an opportunity to quietly take my leave.