This would be the best way of telling the sad news, Mrs. Poole thought; so just as he had finished his day's work, the telegram was handed to Brown.
But although he started for home as soon as he could after he received it, he did not reach his wife until nearly ten o'clock, and then it was too late to go to the hospital and ascertain further particulars about Fanny's death.
He went on this sad errand the next morning, leaving his wife in the care of Jessie and Mrs. Poole, for she was now so ill that the doctor had been sent for, and had ordered her to keep her bed for the present. The fatigue of the long walk a day or two before, followed by the shock of the sudden news of Fanny's death, had proved too much for her.
The only person she asked to see was the Vicar, and when he came, she said—
"Where is my Fanny now, sir?"
"In God's keeping," he answered tenderly. "Nothing can take her out of His hands."
"But she is dead," said the poor heart-broken mother; "and I know she had been wilful and selfish, and—"
But there the invalid stopped with a groan.
"And you do not know anything that happened to the poor silly girl after she went to the hospital? But cannot you believe that God was there with your wilful child, as well as in the cave with your brave girl? And could He not lead Fanny to repentance for the past, as well as give courage and endurance to her sister?"
A little something like hope crept into the poor woman's eyes as she listened.