Yet he did not lift his head.

Cold as marble grew the white fingers which lingered in his, still he clasped her tightly.

He sat with closed eyes, communing with his own saddened heart; he was stilling the agony which welled up, and casting forth the bitterness which mingled darkly with his grief, and he said unto his tortured soul: "Be still! my treasure is laid up in heaven." He lifted the hair from his arm, and gently drew his hand from hers; yet, save for the icy coldness of her brow, none would have known that the soul which lent such gentle loveliness to the countenance had flown home to God.
Dr.Bryant pressed a last kiss on the closed eyes and marble brow, softly laid her on her pillow, and left the room..