had been disturbed by thoughts of Frank, arose
early, determined to call at Mrs. Howard's, and see if they were in
want of any thing. But his mother, who had heard rumors of the scarlet
fever, was up before him, and on descending to the kitchen, which with
all her sickness Mrs. Bender kept in perfect order, Billy found her
sitting before a blazing fire,--her feet in hot water, and her head
thrown back in a manner plainly showing that something new had taken
hold of her in good earnest. Billy was accustomed to her freaks, and
not feeling at all frightened, stepped briskly forward, saying,
"Well, mother, what's the matter now? Got a cramp in your foot, or
what?"

"Oh, William," said she, "I've lived through a sight but my time has
come at last. Such a pain in my head and stomach. I do believe I've
got the scarlet fever, and you must run for the doctor quick."

"Scarlet fever!" repeated Billy, "why, you've had it once, and you
can't have it again, can you?"

"Oh, I don't know,--I never was like anybody else, and can have any
thing a dozen times. Now be spry and fetch the doctor but before you
go, hand me my snuff-box and put the canister top heapin' full of tea
into the tea-pot."

Billy obeyed, and then, knowing that the green tea would remove his
mother's ailment quite as soon as the physician, he hurried away
towards Mrs. Howard's. The sun was just rising, and its red rays
looked in at the window, through which the moonlight had shone the
night before. Beneath the window a single rose-tree was blooming, and
on it a robin was pouring out its morning song. Within the cottage
there was no sound or token of life, and thinking its inmates were
asleep, Billy paused several minutes upon the threshold, fearing that
he should disturb their slumbers. At last with a vague presentiment
that all was not right, he raised the latch and entered, but instantly
started back in astonishment at the scene before him. On the little
trundlebed lay Frank, cold and dead, and near him in the same long
dreamless sleep was his mother, while between them, with one arm
thrown lovingly across her brother's neck, and her cheek pressed
against his, lay Mary--her eyelids moist with the tears which, though
sleeping she still shed. On the other side of Frank and nestled so
closely to him that her warm breath lifted the brown curls from his
brow, was Ella. But there were no tear stains on her face, for she
did not yet know how bereaved she was.

For