"And has papa's soul gone too?" she asked quickly, "my brother couldn't go alone; he was too little."
Oh, how my tears burst forth afresh!
"Pauline," said Emily, "the angels came from heaven to take dear little Walter's soul up to God. Jesus wanted him there."
"How long will he have to stay there?"
"Oh, Pauline!" I exclaimed, "he will never, never come back, we shall never see him again."
The poor stricken child sobbed aloud. Mother took her from me. "Go to Frank," she whispered, "and I will try to soothe her."
I went below, and softly entered the library, where my dear husband knelt by the sofa, with his face buried in his hands. I went gently to his side, when he put his arm around me. I whispered, "pray for me too." And in a broken voice, interrupted by convulsive sobs, he did pray that we might not murmur at this stroke of our father's rod.
After a while, I heard a gentle knock at the door, and Cæsar's voice asking if mass'r Frank would please eat some breakfast. When he saw me, the poor man cried aloud. Oh! what an idol he had made of his young master! His large faithful heart was swelling with grief, which he had in vain tried to control. I gave him my hand, and found a world of comfort in his sympathizing tears.
"Oh, missus Lenox!" said he sobbing, "I 'spects 'twas God's will."
"Yes, Cæsar, but it's hard for my poor heart to say 'Thy will be done.' You must pray for me, Cæsar."