corner of
the sofa, and the children's toys overturned in the bow-window. But when
he saw Mrs. Hackit come towards him with answering sorrow in her face,
the pent-up fountain of tears was opened; he threw himself on the sofa,
hid his face, and sobbed aloud.

'Bear up, Mr. Barton,' Mrs. Hackit ventured to say at last; 'bear up, for
the sake o' them dear children.'

'The children,' said Amos, starting up. 'They must be sent for. Some one
must fetch them. Milly will want to ...'

He couldn't finish the sentence, but Mrs. Hackit understood him, and
said, 'I'll send the man with the pony-carriage for 'em.'

She went out to give the order, and encountered Dr Madeley and Mr. Brand,
who were just going.

Mr. Brand said: 'I am very glad to see you are here, Mrs. Hackit. No time
must be lost in sending for the children. Mrs. Barton wants to see them.'

'Do you quite give her up then?'

'She can hardly live through the night. She begged us to tell her how
long she had to live; and then asked for the children.'

The pony-carriage was sent; and Mrs. Hackit, returning to Mr. Barton,
said she would like to go up-stairs now. He went up-stairs with her and
opened the door. The chamber fronted the west; the sun was just setting,
and the red light fell full upon the bed, where Milly lay with the hand
of death visibly upon her. The feather-bed had been removed, and she lay
low on a mattress, with her head slightly raised by pillows. Her long
fair neck seemed to be struggling with a painful effort; her features
were pallid and pinched, and her eyes were closed. There was no one in
the room but the nurse, and the mistress of the free school, who had come
to give her help from the beginning of the change.

Amos and Mrs. Hackit stood beside the bed, and Milly opened her eyes.

'My darling, Mrs. Hackit is come to see you.'

Milly smiled and looked at her with that strange, far-off look which
belongs to ebbing life.

'Are the children coming?' she said, painfully.

'Yes, they will be here directly.'

She closed her eyes again.

Presently the pony-carriage was heard; and Amos, motioning to Mrs. Hackit
to follow him, left the room. On their way downstairs she suggested that
the carriage should remain to take them away again afterwards, and Amos
assented.

There they stood in the melancholy sitting-room--the five sweet children,
from Patty to Chubby--all, with their mother's eyes--all, except Patty,
looking up with a vague fear