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"Pray for me!" says he, in a low tone, pressing her hand. So on her knees, in a subdued voice, sad but earnest, she repeats what prayers she can remember out of the grand Service that belongs to us. One or two sentences from the Litany come to her; and then some words rise from her own heart, and she puts up a passionate supplication to heaven that the passing soul beside her, however erring, may reach some haven where rest remaineth! And now what remains to be told? But little, I think! For my gentle Mona has reached that haven where she would be! "Do you know," says Mona, with a slight shiver, and a little nervous laugh, pressing closer to her side, "I have lost half my courage of late? I seem to be always anticipating evil.".

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But hark! What is this that greets her ear? The ring of horse's feet upon the quiet road! "It won't trouble us, not a bit," says Mrs. Geoffrey, rising with alacrity. "I shall love it, the floor is so nice and slippery. Can any one whistle?" Day by day other persons disappeared from the winter camp, and more and more bones whitened on the ground outside the stone lodge on the river bank. This speech has the effect of electricity. They all start; with one consent they give the desired oath. The cards fall to the ground, the fortune forgotten; the mare becomes of very secondary importance; another stitch drops in the fated sock..