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20 to Elizabeth, who just glanced at him, and murmured, "Pears' soap," as she followed her father downstairs.

Six months later Anthony Shaw was dead. He never reached his home, but died in London, of a fever caught abroad, it was said, from bad drains. William saw his brother before his death, and received his last wishes; and when all was over, and Elizabeth had followed her father to the grave, her uncle carried her off to Farley, where his wife awaited them, with regulation-mourning, and what our neighbours call a figure de circonstance. She folded her arms round her niece; she kissed her effusively; she said, "Now your home is here, remember,for as long as you are unmarried." The pale, crashed girl could not fitly respond to all this, but no doubt the kind intention touched her. Between Mrs. William and herself she felt that there was a bridge incapable of supporting more than very light material. Demand too much of it, and it would give way. She could not be comforted; for it seemed to her then that she had lost the only being on earth she cared for, or could ever care for. No one might ever replace her dear, noble father—so unselfish, so wise, so perfect in every relation of life! What an ensample he must ever be to her; and how every word of loving counsel that had fallen from his lips must be treasured by his child!

She constantly recalled what he had said about her uncle and aunt. To Elizabeth all places were alike in those first months; but there is no doubt she would have preferred solitude to the life at Farley, if her father's wishes had not weighed with her. The slowly encroaching tide of visitors—though Mrs. William always declared