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 even after the vital spark had fled he reluctantly gave her up, not until Rosalind whispered, "Shall we not restore unto God his own?"

Her fortitude through it all was remarkable. She was redeeming the pledge made unto God at the time of her marriage. If her experience had taught her anything it was that she had no right to assume any voluntary relation that should subject her to the vicissitudes of life and death, unless willing to meet them more submissively than she had done the loss of her father. Often had she renewed this pledge, as day by day she watched the unfolding of this fair flower, and asked herself the question, "If this treasure should be called for at my hands, could I give her up?"

Then leaving a kiss on that innocent brow she strove within herself to feel that she was only lent, not given. She marvelled at her own strength in this hour of trial, but, was anything ever asked of God in prayer that was not granted? All the exquisite tenderness of her nature burst forth, and she turned from the dead now at rest to the living who needed her consolation and support, banishing her own grief in ministering unto others. In her self-forgetfulness lay her strength, and the sight of her husband's sorrow made her rise above her own.

Mrs. Claremont was the animating spirit of the house. So cheerfully she set about the performance of every duty, and attended to all that had been Lilly's special care, those parents felt that it would have been an act of ingratitude to have appeared otherwise than cheerful in her presence. From the