by Evelyn Everett-Green.
Good Squire Tufton of Gablehurst lay dying. He had been ailingfor many months, knowing his end to be near; and yet, as is sooften the case in lingering declines, death was long in coming, sothat those about him had grown used to the sight of the strongfigure wasted to a shadow, and the face shadowed by the wings ofthe hovering messenger.
Some members of the household, indeed, had begun to cherish thehope that the master might yet recover, and be seen amongst themonce more; but that hope was not shared by the patient himself, norby the two devoted women who nursed him with tender love.
His wife and daughter were always with him, relieving each otherin turn, and occasionally both yielding place to one of the manyfaithful servants, who were all eager to do what they could for themaster they loved; but in his waking hours the squire seldom missedthe best-loved faces about him. Rachel and her mother seemed tolive their lives about his sick bed, soothing his weariness andpain, and striving with patient resignation to school themselves tosubmission to the will of God, who was about to take their lovedone from them.
And yet they had kept him with them longer than once seemedpossible. The bright days of summer were doubtless favourable tothe patient. When he could lie with open windows, breathing thepure soft air from woodland and field, he seemed able to make astand against the grim enemy of human nature. But the summer wasnow upon the wane; the golden sunshine was obscured by the firstdriving rains of the approaching equinox; and it seemed to thosewho watched at the sufferer's bedside that his life was ebbing awayas slowly and as steadily as the hours of sunshine in theshortening day.
Today there was a look upon his face which caused Rachel manytimes to turn anxious and beseeching eyes upon her mother, and yetwhat she read in the expression of that worn and gentle countenanceonly confirmed her own impressions.
The Squire lay very still and quiet, dozing as it seemed, whilstthe fire crackled cheerfully up the wide chimney, and the raindashed ceaselessly against the windows. He had not spoken for manyhours. There had come into Rachel's heart a terrible fear lest heshould never speak again. The shadow on his face looked so gray;the features had taken so strange and pinched a look.
Rachel had seen death before in many humble homes, although ithad, so far, not touched any of her own nearest and dearest. Shehad watch