192 THERE IS NO HURRY.

and how she was occupied at that moment, and
hastened onward. There are times when life
seems one mingled dream, and it is not easy to
become dispossessed of the idea when some of
its frightful changes are brought almost together
under our view.

“Is Miss Adams at home?” inquired her
uncle of a woman leaning against the door of
a miserable house.

“J don’t know ; she went to the hospital this
morning; but I’m not sure she’s in; it’s the
second pair back ; it’s easy known, for the sob
has not ceased in that room these two nights ;
some people do take on so”

Charles Adams did not hear the concluding
sentence, but sought the room; the door would
not close, and he heard a low sobbing sound
from within; he paused, but his step had aroused
the mourner—‘ Come in, Mary; come in’; =
know how it is,” said a young voice; “ he’ is
dead; one grave for mother and son— one
grave for mother and son! I see your shadow,
dark as itis; have you brought a candle ? It
is very fearful to be alone with the dead—even

one’s own mother—in the dark.”
. Charles Adams entered the room; but his
sudden appearance in the twilight, and evident-
ly not knowing him, overcame the girl, his
youngest niece, so much, that she screamed,
and fell on her knees by her mother’s corpse.
He called for lights, and was speedily obeyed,

 

ee sia = —