"Poor Madge!" she said at last to her faithful companion; "it was I who brought you to this terrible pass-you who have followed me everywhere, and whose fidelity deserved a far different recompense! Can you forgive me?"
"There is but one thing I could never have forgiven you," replied Madge,-"a death I did not share!"
"Ah, Madge!" cried Mrs Barnett, "if my death could save the lives of all these poor people, how gladly would I die!"
"My dear girl," replied Madge, "have you lost all hope at last?"
"I have indeed," murmured Mrs Barnett, hiding her face on Madge's shoulder.
The strong masculine nature had given way at last, and Mrs Barnett was for a moment a feeble woman. Was not her emotion excusable in so awful a situation?
Mrs Barnett sobbed aloud, and large tears rolled down her cheeks.
Madge kissed and caressed her, and tried all she could to reassure her; and presently, raising her head, her poor mistress said-
"Do not tell them, Madge, how I have given way-do not betray that I have wept."
"Of course not," said Madge, "and they would not believe me if I did. It was but a moment's weakness. Be yourself, dear girl; cheer up, and take fresh courage."