the start to keep Jennie's mental state as nearly normal
as possible.

"Now, you just go to your room and lie down, Mrs. Kane," she would
say to Jennie when she found her watching helplessly at the bedside or
wandering to and fro, wondering what to do. "I'll take charge of
everything. I'll do just what you would do. Lord bless you, don't you
think I know? I've been the mother of seven and lost three. Don't you
think I understand?" Jennie put her head on her big, warm shoulder one
day and cried. Mrs. Davis cried with her. "I understand," she said.
"There, there, you poor dear. Now you come with me." And she led her
to her sleeping-room.

Jennie could not be away long. She came back after a few minutes
unrested and unrefreshed. Finally one midnight, when the nurse had
persuaded her that all would be well until morning anyhow, there came
a hurried stirring in the sick-room. Jennie was lying down for a few
minutes on her bed in the adjoining room. She heard it and arose. Mrs.
Davis had come in, and she and the nurse were conferring as to Vesta's
condition--standing close beside her.

Jennie understood. She came up and looked at her daughter keenly.
Vesta's pale, waxen face told the story. She was breathing faintly,
her eyes closed. "She's very weak," whispered the nurse. Mrs. Davis
took Jennie's hand.

The moments passed, and after a time the clock in the hall struck
one. Miss Murfree, the nurse, moved to the medicine-table several
times, wetting a soft piece of cotton cloth with alcohol and bathing
Vesta's lips. At the striking of the half-hour there was a stir of the
weak body--a profound sigh. Jennie bent forward eagerly, but Mrs.
Davis drew her back. The nurse came and motioned them away.
Respiration had ceased.

Mrs. Davis seized Jennie firmly. "There, there, you poor dear," she
whispered when she began to shake. "It can't be helped. Don't
cry."

Jennie sank on her knees beside the bed and caressed Vesta's still
warm hand. "Oh no, Vesta," she pleaded. "Not you! Not you!"

"There, dear, come now," soothed the voice of Mrs. Davis. "Can't
you leave it all in God's hands? Can't you believe that everything is
for the best?"

Jennie felt as if the earth had fallen. All ties were broken. There
was no light anywhere in the immense darkness of her existence.

CHAPTER LIX

This added blow from inconsiderate fortune was quite enough to
throw Jennie back into that state of hyper-melancholia from which she
h