el skirt, the last article made by her
mother, and wrapped the cold hands within its folds. The scant coverings
she also tucked up more closely and put their last bit of coal upon the
fire.

Till midnight she sat by the bed, wondering why mother was so very
still, and why she was growing so cold. At last, being able to endure
the suspense no longer, stepping across the hall, she called for Mrs.
Gray.

"Land sakes, child, why ain't you in bed this time of night?"

"Please, Mis' Gray, I'd like to borrow a comfort, 'cause mother's so
awful cold, and I can't get her warm."

"Well, when a body's as accommodatin' as I am, I 'spose they must expect
to be bothered any time of day or night, too. I'll git up and see what
your ma wants. Glad of one thing, she ain't kept me awake by her
coughin' tonight, anyway; but it comes from me fixin' her a decent
supper, I reckon."

Mrs. Gray stepped to the door of Mrs. Browning's room, but something
impelled her to stop. A fear seized her, while involuntarily she
clutched Rosa's trembling hand.

There was no light in the room, save that which shone from across the
hall, the faint rays falling directly over the motionless form upon the
bed.

"Mis' Browning," she cautiously asked, "do you want anything?"

"Mother doesn't hear, Mis' Gray," said Rosa sobbing violently and
throwing herself within the cold arms, kissing over and over the lips
hitherto so responsive to her own.

"Mother dear, don't you hear me? Oh, wake up, please do! I want you so.
I don't know the way, and will get lost to go alone."

"Rosa," said Mrs. Gray almost gently, "git up and go and stay with
grandpa till I tell you to come in here, and don't you come before. I'll
have to go down them steps ag'in fer an undertaker."

"What is an undertaker, Mis' Gray, and what do they do? Will they take
mother to the beautiful land?"

"Didn't you hear me tell you to go in and stay with grandpa? So go right
this minute, and ask no more questions. You do beat all fer askin'
questions, anyhow. You might as well learn now as any time to mind,
since I have to keep you till spring. I ain't the woman to go back on my
word, but there ain't many but what would, a-promisin' under the
circumstances."

The little heart was nearly crushed with a feeling of perplexity and of
indescribable dread, but, after all, there was some comfort in being
alone with grandpa.

Stealing softly into his room, she found him sitting by the stove; and