Clare, with tears in his own eyesI?m not worth crying over But Tom wouldn?t rise, and looked imploring ?Well, I won?t go to any more of their cursed nonsense, Tom,? said StClare; ?on my honor, I won?tI don?t know why I haven?t stopped long agoI?ve always despised it, and myself for it,?so now, Tom, wipe up your eyes, and go about your errandsCome, come,? he added, ?no blessingsI?m not so wonderfully good, now,? he said, as he gently pushed Tom to the door?There, I?ll pledge my honor to you, Tom, you don?t see me so again,? he said; and Tom went off, wiping his eyes, with great satisfaction ?I?ll keep my faith with him, too,? said StClare, as he closed the doorClare did so,?for gross sensualism, in any form, was not the peculiar temptation of his nature But, all this time, who shall detail the tribulations manifold of our friend Miss Ophelia, who had begun the labors of a Southern housekeeper? There is all the difference in the world in the servants of Southern establishments, according to the character and capacity of the mistresses who have brought them up South as well as north, there are women who have an extraordinary talent for command, and tact in educatingSuch are enabled, with apparent ease, and without severity, to subject to their will, and bring into harmonious and systematic order, the various members of their small estate,?to regulate their peculiarities, and so balance and compensate the deficiencies of one by the excess of another, as to produce a harmonious and orderly system Such a housekeeper was MrsShelby, whom we have already described; and such our readers may remember to have met withIf they are not common at the South, it is because they are not common in the worldThey are to be found there as often as anywhere; and, when existing, find in that peculiar state of society a brilliant opportunity to exhibit their domestic talent Such a housekeeper Marie StClare was not, nor her mother before herIndolent and childish, unsystematic and improvident, it was not to be expected that servants trained under her care should not be so likewise; and she had very justly described to Miss Ophelia the state of confusion she would find in the family, though she had not ascribed it to the proper cause The first morning of her regency, Miss Ophelia was up at four o?clock; and having attended to all the adjustments of her own chamber, as she had done ever since she came there, to the great amazement of the chambermaid, she prepared for a vigorous onslaught on the cupboards and closets of the establishment of which she had the keys The store-room, the linen-presses, the china-closet, the kitchen and cellar, that day, all went under an awful reviewHidden things of darkness were brought to light to an extent that alarmed all the principalities and powers of kitchen and chamber, and caused many wonderings and murmurings about ?dese yer northern ladies? from the domestic cabinet Old Dinah, the head cook, and principal of all rule and authority in the kitchen department, was filled with wrath at what she considered an invasion of privilegeNo feudal baron in Magna Charta times could have more thoroughly resented some incursion of the crown Dinah was a character in her own way, and it would be injustice to her memory not to give the reader a little idea of herShe was a native and essential cook, as much as Aunt Chloe,?cooking being an indigenous talent of the African race; but Chloe was a trained and methodical one, who moved in an orderly domestic harness, while Dinah was a self-taught genius, and, like geniuses in general, was positive, opinionated and erratic, to the last degree Like a certain class of modern philosophers, Dinah perfectly scorned logic and reason in every shape, and always took refuge in intuitive certainty; and here she was perfectly impregnableNo possible amount of talent, or authority, or explanation, could ever make her believe that any other way was better than her own, or that the course she had pursued in the smallest matter could be in the least modifiedThis had been a conceded point with her old mistress, Marie?s mother; and ?Miss Marie,? as Dinah always called her young mistress, even after her marriage, found it easier to submit than contend; and so Dinah had ruled supremeThis was the easier, in that she was perfect mistress of that diplomatic art which unites the utmost subservience of manner with the utmost inflexibility as to measure Dinah was mistress of the whole art and mystery of excuse-making, in all its branchesIndeed, it was an axiom with her that the cook can do no wrong; and a cook in a Southern kitchen finds abundance of heads and shoulders on which to lay off every sin and frailty, so as to maintain her own immaculateness entireIf any part of the dinner was a failure, there were fifty indisputably good reasons for it; and it was the fault undeniably of fifty other people, whom Dinah berated with unsparing zeal But it was very seldom that there was any failure in Dinah?s last resultsThough her mode of doing everything was peculiarly meandering and circuitous, and without any sort of calculation as to time and place,?though her kitchen generally looked as if it had been arranged by a hurricane blowing through it, and she had about as many places for each cooking utensil as there were days in the year,?yet, if one would have patience to wait her own good time, up would come her dinner in perfect order, and in a style of preparation with which an epicure could find no fault It was now the season of incipient preparation for shop dinner

' "I think I came just in the nick of timeYou know you have only to tell me what to do Van Helsing strode forward, and took his hand, looking him straight in the eyes as he said, "A brave man's blood is the best thing on this earth when a woman is in troubleYou're a man and no mistakeWell, the devil may work against us for all he's worth, but God sends us men when we want them Once again we went through that ghastly operationI have not the heart to go through with the detailsLucy had got a terrible shock and it told on her more than before, for though plenty of blood went into her veins, her body did not respond to the treatment as well as on the other occasionsHer struggle back into life was something frightful to see and hearHowever, the action of both heart and lungs improved, and Van Helsing made a sub-cutaneous injection of morphia, as before, and with good effectHer faint became a profound slumberThe Professor watched whilst I went downstairs with Quincey Morris, and sent one of the maids to pay off one of the cabmen who were waiting I left Quincey lying down after having a glass of wine, and told the cook to get ready a good breakfastThen a thought struck me, and I went back to the room where Lucy now wasWhen I came softly in, I found Van Helsing with a sheet or two of note paper in his handHe had evidently read it, and was thinking it over as he sat with his hand to his browThere was a look of grim satisfaction in his face, as of one who has had a doubt solvedHe handed me the paper saying only, "It dropped from Lucy's breast when we carried her to the bath When I had read it, I stood looking at the Professor, and after a pause asked him, "In God's name, what does it all mean? Was she, or is she, mad, or what sort of horrible danger is it?" I was so bewildered that I did not know what to say moreVan Helsing put out his hand and took the paper, saying, "Do not trouble about it nowForget it for the presentYou shall know and understand it all in good time, but it will be laterAnd now what is it that you came to me to say?" This brought me back to fact, and I was all myself again "I came to speak about the certificate of deathIf we do not act properly and wisely, there may be an inquest, and that paper would have to be producedI am in hopes that we need have no inquest, for if we had it would surely kill poor Lucy, if nothing else didI know, and you know, and the other doctor who attended her knows, that MrsWestenra had disease of the heart, and we can certify that she died of itLet us fill up the certificate at once, and I shall take it myself to the registrar and go on to the undertaker "Good, oh my friend John! Well thought of! Truly Miss Lucy, if she be sad in the foes that beset her, is at least happy in the friends that love herOne, two, three, all open their veins for her, besides one old manAh, yes, I know, friend JohnI am not blind! I love you all the more for it! Now go In the hall I met Quincey Morris, with a telegram for Arthur telling him that MrsWestenra was dead, that Lucy also had been ill, but was now going on better, and that Van Helsing and I were with herI told him where I was going, and he hurried me out, but as I was going said, "When you come back, Jack, may I have two words with you all to ourselves?" I nodded in reply and went outI found no difficulty about the registration, and arranged with the local undertaker to come up in the evening to measure for the coffin and to make arrangements When I got back Quincey was waiting for meI told him I would see him as soon as I knew about Lucy, and went up to her roomShe was still sleeping, and the Professor seemingly had not moved from his seat at her shop side

' "I think I came just in the nick of timeYou know you have only to tell me what to do Van Helsing strode forward, and took his hand, looking him straight in the eyes as he said, "A brave man's blood is the best thing on this earth when a woman is in troubleYou're a man and no mistakeWell, the devil may work against us for all he's worth, but God sends us men when we want them Once again we went through that ghastly operationI have not the heart to go through with the detailsLucy had got a terrible shock and it told on her more than before, for though plenty of blood went into her veins, her body did not respond to the treatment as well as on the other occasionsHer struggle back into life was something frightful to see and hearHowever, the action of both heart and lungs improved, and Van Helsing made a sub-cutaneous injection of morphia, as before, and with good effectHer faint became a profound slumberThe Professor watched whilst I went downstairs with Quincey Morris, and sent one of the maids to pay off one of the cabmen who were waiting I left Quincey lying down after having a glass of wine, and told the cook to get ready a good breakfastThen a thought struck me, and I went back to the room where Lucy now wasWhen I came softly in, I found Van Helsing with a sheet or two of note paper in his handHe had evidently read it, and was thinking it over as he sat with his hand to his browThere was a look of grim satisfaction in his face, as of one who has had a doubt solvedHe handed me the paper saying only, "It dropped from Lucy's breast when we carried her to the bath When I had read it, I stood looking at the Professor, and after a pause asked him, "In God's name, what does it all mean? Was she, or is she, mad, or what sort of horrible danger is it?" I was so bewildered that I did not know what to say moreVan Helsing put out his hand and took the paper, saying, "Do not trouble about it nowForget it for the presentYou shall know and understand it all in good time, but it will be laterAnd now what is it that you came to me to say?" This brought me back to fact, and I was all myself again "I came to speak about the certificate of deathIf we do not act properly and wisely, there may be an inquest, and that paper would have to be producedI am in hopes that we need have no inquest, for if we had it would surely kill poor Lucy, if nothing else didI know, and you know, and the other doctor who attended her knows, that MrsWestenra had disease of the heart, and we can certify that she died of itLet us fill up the certificate at once, and I shall take it myself to the registrar and go on to the undertaker "Good, oh my friend John! Well thought of! Truly Miss Lucy, if she be sad in the foes that beset her, is at least happy in the friends that love herOne, two, three, all open their veins for her, besides one old manAh, yes, I know, friend JohnI am not blind! I love you all the more for it! Now go In the hall I met Quincey Morris, with a telegram for Arthur telling him that MrsWestenra was dead, that Lucy also had been ill, but was now going on better, and that Van Helsing and I were with herI told him where I was going, and he hurried me out, but as I was going said, "When you come back, Jack, may I have two words with you all to ourselves?" I nodded in reply and went outI found no difficulty about the registration, and arranged with the local undertaker to come up in the evening to measure for the coffin and to make arrangements When I got back Quincey was waiting for meI told him I would see him as soon as I knew about Lucy, and went up to her roomShe was still sleeping, and the Professor seemingly had not moved from his seat at her shop side

?Pray that this may be cut short!? said StClare,??this wrings my heart ?O, bless the Lord! it?s over,?it?s over, dear Master!? said Tom; ?look at her The child lay panting on her pillows, as one exhausted,?the large clear eyes rolled up and fixedAh, what said those eyes, that spoke so much of heaven! Earth was past,?and earthly pain; but so solemn, so mysterious, was the triumphant brightness of that face, that it checked even the sobs of sorrowThey pressed around her, in breathless stillness ?O, Eva, tell us what you see! What is it?? said her father A bright, a glorious smile passed over her face, and she said, brokenly,??O! love,?joy,?peace!? gave one sigh and passed from death unto life! ?Farewell, beloved child! the bright, eternal doors have closed after thee; we shall see thy sweet face no moreO, woe for them who watched thy entrance into heaven, when they shall wake and find only the cold gray sky of daily life, and thou gone forever!? 1 ?Weep Not for Those,? a poem by Thomas Moore (1779-1852) Chapter 27 ?This Is the of Earth?1 The statuettes and pictures in Eva?s room were shrouded in white napkins, and only hushed breathings and muffled footfalls were heard there, and the light stole in solemnly through windows partially darkened by closed blinds The bed was draped in white; and there, beneath the drooping angel-figure, lay a little sleeping form,?sleeping never to waken! There she lay, robed in one of the simple white dresses she had been wont to wear when living; the rose-colored light through the curtains cast over the icy coldness of death a warm glowThe heavy eyelashes drooped softly on the pure cheek; the head was turned a little to one side, as if in natural steep, but there was diffused over every lineament of the face that high celestial expression, that mingling of rapture and repose, which showed it was no earthly or temporary sleep, but the long, sacred rest which ?He giveth to his beloved There is no death to such as thou, dear Eva! neither darkness nor shadow of death; only such a bright fading as when the morning star fades in the golden dawnThine is the victory without the battle,?the crown without the conflictClare think, as, with folded arms, he stood there gazingAh! who shall say what he did think? for, from the hour that voices had said, in the dying chamber, ?she is gone,? it had been all a dreary mist, a heavy ?dimness of anguish He had heard voices around him; he had had questions asked, and answered them; they had asked him when he would have the funeral, and where they should lay her; and he had answered, impatiently, that he cared not Adolph and Rosa had arranged the chamber; volatile, fickle and childish, as they generally were, they were soft-hearted and full of feeling; and, while Miss Ophelia presided over the general details of order and neatness, it was their hands that added those soft, poetic touches to the arrangements, that took from the death-room the grim and ghastly air which too often marks a New England funeral There were still flowers on the shelves,?all white, delicate and fragrant, with graceful, drooping leavesEva?s little table, covered with white, bore on it her favorite vase, with a single white moss rose-bud in itThe folds of the drapery, the fall of the curtains, had been arranged and rearranged, by Adolph and Rosa, with that nicety of eye which characterizes their raceClare stood there thinking, little Rosa tripped softly into the chamber with a basket of white flowersShe stepped back when she saw StClare, and stopped respectfully; but, seeing that he did not observe her, she came forward to place them around the deadClare saw her as in a dream, while she placed in the small hands a fair cape jessamine, and, with admirable taste, disposed other flowers around the couch The door opened again, and Topsy, her eyes swelled with crying, appeared, holding something under her apronRosa made a quick forbidding gesture; but she took a step into the room ?You must go out,? said Rosa, in a sharp, positive whisper; ?you haven?t any business here!? ?O, do let me! I brought a flower,?such a pretty one!? said Topsy, holding up a half-blown tea rose-bud?Do let me put just one there ?Get along!? said Rosa, more decidedly ?Let her stay!? said StClare, suddenly stamping his foot Rosa suddenly retreated, and Topsy came forward and laid her offering at the feet of the corpse; then suddenly, with a wild and bitter cry, she threw herself on the floor alongside the bed, and wept, and moaned aloud Miss Ophelia hastened into the room, and tried to raise and silence her; but in vain ?O, Miss Eva! oh, Miss Eva! I wish I ?s dead, too,?I do!? There was a piercing wildness in the cry; the blood flushed into StClare?s white, marble-like face, and the first tears he had shed since Eva died stood in his eyes ?Get up, child,? said Miss Ophelia, in a softened voice; ?don?t cry soMiss Eva is gone to heaven; she is an angel ?But I can?t see her!? said Topsy?I never shall see her!? and she sobbed shop again

Let me tell you that so you will know what we four know already, for I have tell themHe, our enemy, have gone awayHe have gone back to his Castle in TransylvaniaI know it so well, as if a great hand of fire wrote it on the wallHe have prepare for this in some way, and that last earth box was ready to ship somewheresFor this he took the moneyFor this he hurry at the last, lest we catch him before the sun go downIt was his last hope, save that he might hide in the tomb that he think poor Miss Lucy, being as he thought like him, keep open to himBut there was not of timeWhen that fail he make straight for his last resource, his last earth-work I might say did I wish double ententeHe is clever, oh so clever! He know that his game here was finishAnd so he decide he go back homeHe find ship going by the route he came, and he go in it We go off now to find what ship, and whither boundWhen we have discover that, we come back and tell you allThen we will comfort you and poor Madam Mina with new hopeFor it will be hope when you think it over, that all is not lostThis very creature that we pursue, he take hundreds of years to get so far as LondonAnd yet in one day, when we know of the disposal of him we drive him outHe is finite, though he is powerful to do much harm and suffers not as we doBut we are strong, each in our purpose, and we are all more strong togetherTake heart afresh, dear husband of Madam MinaThis battle is but begun and in the end we shall winSo sure as that God sits on high to watch over His childrenTherefore be of much comfort till we return JONATHAN HARKER'S JOURNAL 4 October-When I read to Mina, Van Helsing's message in the phonograph, the poor girl brightened up considerablyAlready the certainty that the Count is out of the country has given her comfortAnd comfort is strength to herFor my own part, now that his horrible danger is not face to face with us, it seems almost impossible to believe in itEven my own terrible experiences in Castle Dracula seem like a long forgotten dreamHere in the crisp autumn air in the bright sunlight Alas! How can I disbelieve! In the midst of my thought my eye fell on the red scar on my poor darling's white foreheadWhilst that lasts, there can be no disbeliefMina and I fear to be idle, so we have been over all the diaries again and againSomehow, although the reality seem greater each time, the pain and the fear seem lessThere is something of a guiding purpose manifest throughout, which is comfortingMina says that perhaps we are the instruments of ultimate goodIt may be! I shall try to think as she doesWe have never spoken to each other yet of the shop future