The rest of the day was a dream to Queenie; she never stirred from Emmie's side. Garth came in and out in a quiet, business-like way, but he never stayed long. Once or twice he brought some refreshment to her, and remained beside her until she had taken it. "You must eat it, or you will be ill," he said, very gravely, when she would have refused it. After the first, Emmie seemed hardly conscious of his presence; a fainting fit had followed the excitement of the morning, and there had been only a partial rally. She lay through the remainder of the day motionless and speechless, with her hand in her sister's, and a faint flicker of her old innocent smile round her lips. Once only she brightened visibly when Garth stooped and kissed her. "Now I am happy," Queenie heard her say. "Dear Mr. Garth, I know he will take care of her!" It was late in the evening when she roused to full consciousness. The day had been sultry, and the folding doors had been flung open, and now a pleasant breeze swept from the sea and blew refreshingly through the room. Garth was pacing up and down on the balcony. The moon had already risen, and a broken pathway of light seemed to stretch over the dark water. By-and-bye a star trembled on the edge of a long fleecy cloud. Through the open window he could catch a glimpse of the little fair form propped up with pillows, with the patient figure beside it; now and then a low tone reached his ears. "Are we alone, Queen? Where is Mr. Garth?" "He is out there, looking at the sea; it is so beautiful to-night. Shall I call him, dear?" "No; I like to feel that we are alone together once more, just you and I. We have always been so happy together, have we not, Queen?" "Yes, yes, my darling." "There will be so many waiting for me there--mamma and papa, and Uncle Andrew, and Nan, and Captain Fawcett's little girl; but sometimes I am afraid that I shall miss you very badly, dear. I hope it is not wicked to feel that." "No, of course not, my pet; but God will take care of that; He will not let you miss me too much." "Never to be tired again, how strange that will be!" continued the dying child. Queenie softly repeated the words, "Come unto Me, all ye that are weary and heavy laden, and I will give you rest." "Ah, that sounds nice. You always say such comforting things. I know I have tired you dreadfully, Queen, and made you very unhappy, but you will soon be better, will you not?" "I will try," in a faint voice, striving to repress her agitation, for a strange, indefinable expression seemed stealing over the child's face. "When you are sad you must say to yourself, 'Emmie likes me to be happy,' and then you will feel better, you know; but I can't talk any more, the sea sounds so close. Kiss me and say good night, Queen."