“I have no doubt it helped materially. He had complained of a dull, heavy headache for two or three days, and yesterday he was out in the sun which appeared to affect him a good deal. At midnight he was taken with paralysis. But brief as the time was it found him ready. He seemed to have gleams of consciousness and knew me at intervals. His trust was staid upon God, and there was no fear, no shrinking.”
“He has been a good, upright man. Kenton always esteemed him highly.”
“He was more than that, Miss Churchill, he was an earnest Christian. If the household had been of one mind, workers in the vineyard, he would have lived a fuller and more joyous christian life. But we are to work our way through hindrances. God gave him grace and strength and perfected him in good deeds. I feel as if I had lost my mainstay in the church. He was not a man of many words, but you could rely upon him to the uttermost. And though I shall grieve for a true and staunch friend, I shall also rejoice that he has gone to his reward, better far than any earthly happiness.”
“You loved him very much,” said Miss Churchill, deeply moved.
“I did indeed.”
“The loss is dreadful to his family.”
“My heart ached for Richard. He and his father were tender friends, and the watching through long hours, the not being able to give him up, was agonizing in the extreme. Mrs. Fairlie was stunned by the suddenness.”
“I wonder if I could be any—comfort to her?” Miss Churchill questioned slowly.
“I wish you would call to-morrow,” said papa. “I don’t know but I shall have to come to you and your brother now.”
“I am sure I should be glad to give you any assistance in my power. I have been thinking lately that we live quite too much for ourselves.”