I took it from him, and he seemed to sink into a stupor. I never withdrew my eyes from him. The day had come and gone while I had been watching, and now it was night. Lights were brought into the room. I felt some one come behind me, and stand there at my chair; but I did not look who it was. Oh! that silent dim death-room, with no sound in it but his breath! Mr. Osborne leaned, hiding his face upon the pillow of the bed. I heard one suppressed sob behind me, and knew it was Alice; and I knew, too, instinctively that though I did not see him, there was another in the room. But I never moved nor turned my head; not a tear came to my dry eye, my lips were parched and hot; but neither sobbing nor weeping were possible to me. I sat still by that bedside, in full possession of my mind and faculties. I never observed more keenly, more closely, more minutely in all my life--I felt no grief, I knew no emotion, I only watched and watched with intense attention and consciousness to see my father pass away. And there lay he--his speech was gone from him--his voice was no more to be heard in mortal ears--his soul was within those dark closing eternal gates--he was almost away. Suddenly he opened his dim eyes, and looked about him wildly, and said, "Helen!" Mr. Osborne turned to me with a rapid gesture to seek the miniature on my neck. "Let him see her--let him see her, why have you left it behind?" he said, in a whisper, which had all the effort of a loud cry. How vain it would have been! my father's eyes closed once more in a moment--opened again to look round upon us with a scared bewildered glance--then were shut closely. I thought he had fallen asleep, but there was suddenly a movement and rustle among them all, a faint stir--I could not describe it, as if something had been accomplished. I understood what it meant, it went to my heart like a knife. Yes! it was so--it was so--I was standing among those who had wronged me, and he was gone. I did not move, though they did. Mr. Osborne came and put his hand upon my head, and bade God bless me! and said, "All is well with him--all is well with him, dear child! go with Alice, this is no place for you;" and Alice stole to my side and put her arm round me, and entreated, "Miss Hester, darling, my own child, come and rest!" I shook them both away--they were weeping, both of them--but not a tear came to me. I was the only one quite self-possessed. I did not say a word to either; I kept my seat, and shook them from me when they attempted to remonstrate. No! I could not yield to their false kindness, I would rather be alone--alone, as I was indeed alone in the world. Then he came to me--when I saw him approaching, I rose. "Do not say anything," I said; "if I must leave my dear father, I will go to my own room; let no one come to me, I will not be interrupted to-night."