But the senses of the Irish girls were too profoundly locked in sleep to heed that common sound; neither did they hear the outer door, which by accident had been left unlocked, swing softly open, nor saw they the tall figure which passed by them into the next room--the room where stood the coffin.
Suddenly through the house there echoed a cry, so long, so loud, so despairing, that every sleeper started from their rest, and hurried with nervous haste to the parlor, where they saw Harry Graham, bending in wild agony over the body of his darling Lizzie, who never before had turned a deaf ear to his impassioned words of endearment.

He had received his sister's letter, and started immediately for home, but owing to some delay did not reach there in time to see her alive.
Anxious to know the worst, he had not stopped at his father's house, but seeing a light in Mr.Dayton's parlors, hastened thither.

Finding the door unlocked, he entered, and on seeing the two servant girls asleep, his heart beat quickly with apprehension.

Still he was unprepared for the shock which awaited him, when on the coffin and her who slept within it his eye first rested.

He did not faint, nor even weep, but when his friends came about him with words of sympathy he only answered, "Lizzie, Lizzie, she is dead!" During the remainder of that sad night he sat by the coffin pressing his hand upon the icy forehead until its coldness seemed to benumb his faculties, for when in the morning his parents and sister came he scarcely noticed them; and still the world, misjudging ever, looked upon his calm face and tearless eye, and said that all too lightly had he loved the gentle girl whose last thoughts and words had been of him.