She took the pale and withered hand, and replied, "Effie, there is something about this, different from all that I have ever seen; death always seemed so terrible to me." "It is only terrible where sin is not pardoned; 'the sting of death is sin.' Jesus has borne it all for me, and to me there is no sting, nor any fear of the grave, because he has lain there, and blessed it, Miss Matilda." "Would that I had such a trust as this," and she kissed the dear child, and left the room. Sweet was the communion between Effie and her brother. Roland's strong faith, and scriptural knowledge made him a most valuable treasure to the feeble girl, for as the dying hour approached, she had some experience of the conflict between the soul and body, and some slight cloud of darkness in her hour of weakness; but Roland sat by her, watching each change, praying, soothing, repeating words of Scripture, and the hour of temptation passed. "Out in the light, dear brother; so soon at home with Jesus. Read from the Revelations, Roland;" and in a deep, rich voice, he read, "'And there shall be no more curse; but the throne of God and the Lamb shall be in it; and his servants shall serve him: And they shall see his face; and his name shall be in their foreheads. And there shall be no night there; and they need no candle, neither light of the sun; for the Lord God giveth them light; and they shall reign forever and ever.'" "'And there shall be no night there,' Roland, 'but one eternal, glorious day;' come, Madeline, one more kiss, one more, Roland," and Effie clasped her dying arms around both as she whispered, "Love the Saviour, love Roland as I have loved him, Madeline, love each other, and we shall meet in Heaven." They arose from that cold embrace, and as Effie lay back upon her pillow, softly, gently the sweet spirit departed; and when Madeline saw that she had gone, forgetting all ceremony, she took Roland's arm, and led him out into the garden, for Effie had departed in Madeline's sitting-room. He walked mechanically to an arbor, with Madeline by his side. One burst of manly grief rent his bosom, for dearly had he loved his gentle sister, and he felt now that he was indeed alone. Almost unconscious of the act, she leaned her head upon Roland's shoulder, and whispered, "Not alone, Roland; I will take Effie's place." "You cannot, you cannot, Madeline; not Effie's," and ere he was aware, he passed his arm around her waist, but as instantly released her, as he continued pacing up and down the arbor; "you cannot be my sister, Madeline; I must be gone from here, and then I shall indeed be all alone." Madeline scarcely knew what to think of his conduct; if it was intended as a casting off her sisterly love, she was indeed mistaken in him; but that she could not believe--what then could he mean?