No one heeded or heard, and at length she comprehended the full heartlessness of her cousins, who would not even let her approach her grandfather’s deathbed and receive his blessing. She knelt by the bed and buried her face in the pillows, praying that God would let her die, too, if dear old gran’ther was going, for there was no one else to love her in the wide, weary world. She forgot in her despair the unknown lover she had adored. He seemed so far away, and perhaps she would never know more of him than now. She only wished to die. And while she knelt there weeping, the old man passed away with her name on his lips. She heard the people filing out of the room with noisy whispers of comfort to the twins, who were seized with vociferous grief. She knew that he was dead, and awed by the awful presence of death, sobbed on softly and heartbrokenly, as though fearing she might disturb that peaceful rest. Moments of sorrow pass so slowly she could not realize that it was but a few moments later that her door opened, admitting an asylum attendant, accompanied by Patty, loudly urging that the dangerous lunatic be taken at once away. Poor Eva, pale from grief and fasting, her eyes red and swollen with tears, her cheap gray gown crumpled and disordered, was a piteous sight to the kind-hearted attendant, but her misery made no impression on Patty, not even when she sobbed humbly: “Oh, Cousin Patty, mayn’t I stay here, please, until after gran’ther’s funeral? Oh, I want to see him again. Please, please, please!” The pleading eyes, the trembling lips, might have moved a heart of stone, but Patty only went on talking glibly to the attendant: “I positively will not have her longer in the house! We are all in terror of our lives! She has been breaking the window glass, and throwing things out upon our heads, and screaming and disturbing gran’ther’s last hours in her senseless malice! Indeed, I believe her return and the fright she gave him has caused his death. The house is mine and Sister Lydia’s now, and we will not permit her to stay longer. But if you can get her to take some breakfast before she goes, I do not object. She must be hungry, for she has thrown all we brought her out of the window, even the plate and cup and saucer, hoping to kill some of us.” “Oh, Patty!” remonstrated the astonished girl; but the attendant took her gently by the hand, saying: “Come, dear, let us find your hat and go. I have a carriage waiting at the door. But would you like some breakfast first?” “Oh, yes, yes,” murmured the wretched victim, going docilely enough out of the room, and downstairs to the kitchen, where Cousin Tab was bustling about, giving orders to Nick, who stopped and stared in wonder. “We would like some tea, please,” the attendant said civilly, sitting down with Eva’s cold little hand still fast in her own.