"Langley is with him, and we have sent for his wife. There is nothing that a fellow can do, and--in short, I can't stand it," he blurted out confidentially to Queenie, with a man's instinctive horror of scenes. "If there were something that one could do; but in these sort of cases women are the best. It cuts one to the heart to see him going on like that;" and Garth turned on his heel abruptly, and walked to the window. But he made himself of use too in that troubled little household; for he succeeded in coaxing Emmie, who was sobbing with nervous excitement, to go with him to Church-Stile House, and promised Queenie to place her under Cathy's care for the night. This was a great relief to Queenie, who had reason to dread any of these sort of depressing scenes for her, and left her free for any duty that might devolve on her. A sad sight awaited her up-stairs. The setting sun was flooding the little chamber, and the last dazzling rays shone full on the face of the child. Mr. Chester was kneeling by the bed, with one little hand hidden in his; Langley, with a white, rigid face, was standing beside him. As the hoarse uncontrollable sobs, those tearless sobs of a strong man, smote on her ear she shivered and shrank back as though some blow were dealt her. "Oh, Queenie, this is dreadful! Who can comfort him? Where is his wife and the mother of his child?" she whispered, as the girl went up to them. "It is she who ought to be here, not I." "We have sent for her. Hush, Langley, he will hear you." "Ah, he bears nothing; he will have it that she will wake and speak to him." But her words reached his ear. "She will, Langley; how can you be so cruel? They always do just before----" "the last," he was going to say, but the words choked him. "You will say good-bye to father, and give him one sweet kiss, will you not, my little Nan, my darling, my treasure?" "Oh, Harry, try to bear it! Harry, Harry, won't you listen to me a moment?" and Langley laid her cold hand on his arm; but her touch only seemed to make him more frantic. "No, I will not bear it; I cannot bear it. Have I not suffered enough? Will God take from me my only comfort? Oh, my little child, my little child!" with another burst of anguish. "See how calm and peaceful she looks," she went on, in her quiet, controlling voice, but her face was like marble; "just sleeping peacefully into her rest; no pain, no suffering. It is so 'He giveth His beloved sleep;' try and think of that, Harry." "She was my ewe lamb," he muttered, gloomily; "she drank of my cup, and lay in my bosom. She was my own little daughter, my only one, She used to kneel up upon my knees and say her pretty prayers to me every night, the darling. 'God bless Nan and Nan's father,' she always said that." "Yes; and He will bless you, my poor Harry." "Is it blessing me to rob me like this of my all? Oh, Langley, pray to Him; you are a good woman; pray both of you that she may be spared to me."