"Oh, it was no risk for a sailor!" he answered carelessly. "One does harder things than that every day on shipboard." I began to be a little shy, so I thanked him again, and returned to the chamber of death. The poor husband was there, sitting by his dead wife and child, his face bowed in his hands; not weeping, but as it were crushed with the great weight of his grief. He did not raise his head as I came in; we arranged the flowers and herbs I had brought, and then Mrs. Thorpe paused, as if uncertain what to do next. At that moment, Mr. Cheriton entered the room. "How is he?" he asked in a whisper. "Just the same!" answered Mrs. Thorpe in the same tone. "He will neither eat nor speak. If he could weep, it would be something; I fear for his reason." Mr. Cheriton stood for a moment, as if hesitating what to do. He has since said, that he never in all life longed so much to comfort any one, but he did not know what to say. At last he drew a Prayer-book from his pocket, and saying in his deep voice, "Let us pray!" He kneeled down and began the last collects in the burial service. Amabel who had now risen, knelt beside me. We heard some one come in softly, and take his place with the rest. When we arose, we saw that it was a strange clergyman—a neat little man in very precise black, with a face full of power and benignity. He went straight up to the preacher, laid his hand on his head, and said in that voice whose melody once heard, was never forgotten— "My poor brother, may the God of all comfort, sustain thee." John Edwards looked up at the words, and burst into a passion of tears and sobs. "It was our first child!" said he brokenly. "Our very first; and we had lived together so lovingly for fourteen years." Mrs. Thorpe beckoned us all out of the room, and left the friends together. Kesiah Lee was standing on the landing-place. "He will comfort him if any one can," she whispered. "It is Mr. Wesley, himself." [Illustration] CHAPTER XII. THE FUNERAL. MRS. Thorpe sent us young ones down stairs to our breakfast, and presently came down herself, and carried away a cup of tea, and some biscuits. "Mr. Wesley has persuaded the poor man to lie down and take some food!" said she. "'Tis wonderful to see the power he has over him." "You ought to take something yourself, Mrs. Thorpe!" said Mrs. Crump, who was presiding at the table. "You will be ill, and have a turn of spasms again, if you keep on your feet so, without eating anything." "I am coming down directly to give Mr. Wesley his breakfast, and then if Rebecca thinks she can manage with Mary Lee's help in the shop, I will lie down a bit. I am weary, that is the truth. Betty Humble will finish sewing the trimming on those short coats for Mrs. Thistlewood's baby, and mind it is done neatly, my girl." She went away as she spoke, carrying the tray she had prepared. Betty looked anything but satisfied.