train as she proceeded.
"I was punished, for in forsaking my child I lost my husband's love--at
least not all, but for a time. But God pardoned me, and sent my child
back to me as I saw her in my dream--an angel--to guard me through many
troubled ways; to lead me safe to the eternal shore. And now, when I
am going away, I say with my whole soul, God bless my Olive! the most
loving and duteous daughter that ever mother had; and God will bless her
evermore!"

One moment, with a passionate burst of anguish, Olive cried, "O mother,
mother, stay! Do not go and leave me in this bitter world alone." It
was the only moan she made. When she saw the anguish it caused to her
so peacefully dying, she stilled it at once. And then God's comfort came
down upon her; and that night of death was full of a peace so deep that
it was most like happiness. In after years Olive thought of it as if it
had been spent at the doors of heaven.

Toward morning Mrs. Rothesay said, "My child, you are tired. Lie down
here beside me."

And so, with her head on the same pillow, and her arm thrown round her
mother's neck, Olive lay as she had lain every night for so many years.
Once or twice Mrs. Rothesay spoke again, as passing thoughts seemed
to arise; but her mind was perfectly composed and clear. She mentioned
several that she regarded--among the rest, Mrs. Gwynne, to whom she left
"her love."

"And to Christal too, Olive. She has many faults; but, remember, she was
good to me, and I was fond of her. Always take care of Christal."

"I will. And is there no one else to whom I shall give your love,
mamma?"

She thought a minute, and answered, "Yes--to Mr. Gwynne." And, as if in
that dying hour there came to the mother's heart both clear-sightedness
and prophecy, she said, earnestly, "I am very glad I have known Harold
Gwynne. I wish he had been here now, that I might have blessed him,
and begged him all his life long to show kindness and tenderness to my
child."

After this she spoke of earthly things no more, but her thoughts went,
like heralds, far into the eternal land. Thither her daughter's followed
likewise, until, like the martyr Stephen, Olive almost seemed to see the
heavens opened, and the angels of God standing around the throne. Her
heart was filled, not with anguish, but with an awful joy, which passed
not even, when lifting her head from the pillow, she saw that over her
mother's face was coming a change--the change that comes but