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ch, and that the wind was changing and it was coming off cold; and then his heavy boots were heard going up the stairs to his room overhead; but Fleda listened in vain for the sound of the latch of her grandfather's door, or aunt Miriam's quiet foot- fall in the passage; listened and longed, till the minutes seemed like the links of a heavy chain which she was obliged to pass over from hand to hand, and the last link could not be found. The noise of Watkins' feet ceased overhead, and nothing stirred or moved but the crackling flames and Cynthia's elbows, which took turns each in resting upon the opposite arm, and now and then a tell-tale gust of wind in the trees. If Mr. Ringgan was asleep, why did not aunt Miriam come out and see them, ? if he was better, why not come and tell them so. He had been asleep when she first went into his room, and she had come back for a minute then to try again to get Fleda to bed; why could she not come out for a minute once more. Two hours of watching and trouble had quite changed little Fleda; the dark ring of anxiety had come under each eye in her little pale face; she looked herself almost ill.
Aunt Miriam's grave step was heard coming out of the room at last, ? it did not sound cheerfully in Fleda's ears. She came in, and stopping to give some direction to Cynthy, walked up to Fleda. Her face encouraged no questions. She took the child's head tenderly in both her hands, and told her gently, but it was in vain that she tried to make her voice quite as usual, that she had better go to bed ? that she would be sick.
Fleda looked up anxiously in her face.
"How is he?"
But her next word was the wailing cry of sorrow, ? "Oh grandpa!"
The old lady took the little child in her arms, and they both sat there by the fire until the morning dawned.
Patience and sorrow strove Who should express her goodliest. KING LEAR.
When Mr. Carleton knocked at the front door the next day, about two o'clock, it was opened to him by Cynthy. He asked for his late host.
"Mr. Ringgan is dead."
"Dead!" exclaimed the young man, much shocked; ? "when ? how?"
"Wont you come in, Sir?" said Cynthy; ? "maybe you'll see Mis' Plumfield."
"No, certainly," replied the visitor. "Only tell me about Mr. Ringgan."
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