Brewster.” By the tone of his voice, by the falling of his countenance, he could read what had occurred, but he kept silent, waiting for him to speak. “Poor Mary Ann is gone.” “It will make a delay in your plans, Charles,” said Mr. Bangs sorrowfully, after some minutes had been given to expressions of regret. “It will, sir.” The invalid leaned back in his chair, and said in a low voice, “I shall not be long after her, I feel that I shall not.” Very early indeed did they start in the morning, long before daybreak. They would reach Bellville at twelve at night, all things being well; a weary day, a long one at any rate, and the train steamed into Bellville. The clock was striking twelve. Mr. Bangs’ carriage stood waiting. A few minutes was spent in collecting baggage. “Shall I give you a seat as far as the bank, Mr. Taylor?” inquired Mr. Bangs. “Thank you; no I shall just go for a minute’s call on Mrs. Brewster.” Mr. Davis who was in the station getting mail heard the words, he turned hastily, caught Charles by the hand and drew him aside. “Are you aware of what has happened?” “Yes,” replied Charles, “Mrs. Brewster telegraphed to me last night.” Mr. Davis pressed his hand and moved on, Charles taking the road that would lead him to Mrs. Brewster’s house. It is now ten days since he was there, the house looked precisely as it did then, all in darkness, except the dull light that burned from Mary Ann’s sick room; it burnt there still; then it was lighting the living; now--Charles Taylor rang the bell gently, does any one like to go with a fierce peal to a house where death is an inmate? Eliza opened the door as usual and burst into tears when she saw who it was. “I said it would bring you back, sir!” she exclaimed. “Does Mrs. Brewster bear it pretty well,” he asked, as she showed him into the drawing-room. “No, sir; not over well,” sobbed the girl. “I’ll tell the mistress that you are here.” He stood over the fire as he had done before, it was low now like it was then, strangely still seemed the house, he could almost have told that one was lying dead in it, he listened waiting for the step of Janey, hoping that she would be the first to meet him. Eliza returned. “My mistress says, would you be kind enough to come to her.” Charles followed her upstairs, she went to the room where he had been taken the other time, Mary Ann’s room, in reality the room of Mrs. Brewster; but it had been given to Mary Ann for her sickness. Eliza with soft tread crossed the corridor to the door and opened it. Was she going to show him into the presence of the dead. He thought she must have mistaken Mrs. Brewster’s orders and he hesitated on the threshhold. “Where is Miss Janey,” he whispered. “Who, sir;” “Miss Janey, is she well?” The girl stared at him, flung the door wide open and gave a loud cry as she flew down the stairs. He looked after her in amazement, had she gone mad, then he turned and walked into the room with a hesitating step. Mrs.