was I to
be allowed to sit beside the baby until the angels came for him?

I looked around the bare, gloomy room. It might be that the angels who
were to take away Mother Brita's grandchild were already here. Oh, how
good it would be for the poor little baby who coughed so dreadfully!

The clock had struck for half-past seven, for eight o'clock, and
half-past eight, and there was just a small bit left of the candle. The
sick baby had quieted down at last, and now lay very still.

There came a rattling at the door; some one fumbled at the latch and I
stared through the gloom with straining eyes, making up my mind not to
be afraid. The door opened slowly a little way, and Ingeborg, our cook,
put her round face into the opening.

"Well, have I found you at last? And is it here you are? I was to tell
you to betake yourself home. Your mother and father have been worrying
themselves to pieces about you, and----"

"Hush, Ingeborg! Be still. He is so sick, so very sick."

Ingeborg came over to the cradle and bent down. Then she hurriedly
brought the bit of candle to the cradle.

"Oh, he is dead," she said slowly. "Poor little thing! He is dead,--poor
little chap!"

"Oh no, Ingeborg, no!" I sobbed. "Is he dead? For I lifted him up every
single time he coughed. Oh, it is beautiful that he is dead, he
suffered so, and yet,--oh, it seems sad, too!"

"I will stay here with him now until Mother Brita comes home," said
Ingeborg. "For you----"

"How did you know I was here?"

"Why, Karen and Munda came into the kitchen just a few minutes ago, and
told me."

She said again that she would stay in my place, but I couldn't bear to
go before Mother Brita came back.

Shortly after, Mother Brita hurried in, warm, and out of breath. "Oh,
oh! how long you have had to wait," she said in distress. "I couldn't
find John at Stony Point, I had to go away into town. I suppose you are
angry that I stayed so long."

"The baby had to give up the fight, Mother Brita," said Ingeborg.

"Give up? What? What do you say?"

"I lifted him up, Mother Brita, every time he coughed, I did truly,"
said I, and then I burst out crying again. I couldn't help it.

"Yes, I am sure you did, my jewel," said Mother Brita, "and God be
praised that He has taken the baby out of his poor little body. Never
can pain or sin touch him now."

Mother and Father said that I had done just right to stay, and when
Mother kissed me good-night she said she was sure