The irrepressible cry reminded Georgia of that other day long ago when he had received the letter in which he learned all. At the mention of that name, Georgia too rose, pale and trembling, from her seat.
"And have you seen him? Oh, Richmond! have you seen him?"
"Yes," he said, hoarsely.
"And where is he? Richmond—oh, Richmond, do not look so! Charley, your brother—where is he, Richmond?"
"In heaven, Georgia."
She fell back in her seat, and covered her face with her hands.
"Dead! Oh, Charley! and I not there!" she cried, while her tears fell fast.
"Weep not, Georgia," said Richmond, gently removing her hands; "his death was the death of the just. May my last end be like unto his."
But still she wept hot, gushing tears that would not be stayed—tears that fell, not wildly, but that came from the heart, and were sanctified to the memory of the early dead. At last—
"Blessed are the dead who die in the Lord," she softly murmured, lifting her pale face; "God be merciful to his soul! Dear Charley!"