“Excellent!” said I. “So opportune! so kindly thought of! And this is the man whom so many think churlish!” “Ah, he’s anything but that,” said Harry; “and quite the gentleman. Of course mamma—my mother, I mean—was glad to get rid of the brute, and would have been so for half the money. How strange it seems! Only three days ago, my father was patting and praising that animal, and calling him ‘Hotspur,’ little thinking he should so soon be laid low! What an awful thing sudden death is, Mrs. Cheerlove!—_here_ one minute, and the next in the presence of God!” “Are we not in His presence _now_, Harry? We cannot see Him, but He sees and hears us. If a person is well prepared, a sudden death is, in my opinion, a great mercy.” “Oh, how _can_ you think so!” “Well, I do. The shock is very great, doubtless, to the survivors; but the sufferer is mercifully spared a great deal of painful discipline: and if he be but about his Master’s work, ‘Blessed is that servant whom his Lord, when He cometh, shall find so doing.’” “My father was about his Master’s work, Mrs. Cheerlove.” “Certainly he was. He was visiting the sick and needy, in the exercise of his profession. It could never have been without self-denial that he turned out of his bed into the dark, cold night, on such an errand, whether to rich or poor.” Harry seemed to dwell on the reflection with comfort; and I rang for tea, and gave him a cup that was both hot and strong, which I knew to be good for his poor aching head. We had a long talk afterwards, and he left me in a composed and chastened frame of mind. Certainly, a sudden death, like Mr. Prout’s, may be called a leap in the dark; but the believer _leaps into his Saviour’s arms_. * * * * * This morning, to my great surprise and pleasure, Mrs. Pevensey came in, bright with smiles, and said, “The weather is most lovely! and you know you always promised that I should take you your first drive. It shall be as short as you like; but, if you feel equal to the effort, you cannot have a better opportunity. And as I am just going on to inquire after poor Mrs. Prout, I will take you up on my return, which will give you time to get ready without hurry.” I felt quite bewildered, for I had not been out for more than two years! If I had had time, I believe I should have said “No,” but as I had not, I said “Yes,” and very thankfully too. All my nervous misgivings about over-exertion and painful consequences were lost sight of in the thought, how delightful it would be to breathe once more the sweet, sweet open air! Phillis _did_ stare when she heard of the projected attempt. I think her surprise vented itself in the ejaculation— “Well, I’m sure!——”