For another moment she clung to him, with her face hidden; then she looked up very pale, but calm. “I can live without faith,” she said quietly; “but I give you warning now, that without you and my child I could not and would not live. If death comes to me first,—well! if not”— “You will live as long as there is any one for whom you can make the burden of life less heavy,” he said, “and so will I so far as we can control our own fate. It has been all the creed I could boast of for many years, Alice, to say, ‘I believe there are those whom I must live to help.’ I give it to you, now, in return for that of which I have robbed you; take it for what it is worth.” “‘I believe there are those whom I must live to help,’” she repeated slowly. “It is a better creed than poor Jennie’s, Fred. ‘I believe there are those whom I must live to help!’” A sudden light came to her eyes, a smile to her lips. “I will begin with you!” she cried. “Why, how abominably selfish I am, to keep you here talking theology, when you are tired to death and half starved, I dare say.” “My comforts are at least all ready for me,” he answered, smiling, with a glance at the tempting meal upon the table, and the coffee-pot, and little dish of fried oysters keeping hot before the fire. “I thought you would rather have your lunch here,” she said. “Will you change your clothes first?” “They seem to have pretty well dried on me,” he answered, “but I shall feel better for a hot bath; I am chilled to the very bone. And, meanwhile, there is some one else, Alice, love, who will need your care. Your brother asked to send poor little Pinkie here for a few days, and of course I had no wish to refuse. You will not mind the trouble, I know. The carriage will be here in a few moments.” “Poor little Pinkie!” Alice’s eyes filled with the first tears that she had shed for Mrs. Randolph. “No, no, she will not be a trouble; but I must tell Freddy.” She paused, hesitated, and came back. “What shall I say to him, Fred? I can’t tell him that his aunt has gone to heaven. I don’t know that there is such a place.” “She has gone into the unknown,” he replied; “but that would be nonsense to Freddy. I do not know what better name you can find, my dear, than just heaven. And if you don’t believe in golden harps and a glassy sea,—well, neither do you put much faith in the country above the bean-stalk; yet you tell Freddy about that.”