In the first days of her illness the father and daughter thought that
it was only a cold, and were not particularly anxious. But the days
went by and still the mother did not get better; she only grew worse,
and the doctor was puzzled, for in spite of all he did the poor woman
grew weaker day by day. The father and daughter were stricken with
grief, and day or night the girl never left her mother's side. But in
spite of all their efforts the woman's life was not to be saved.

One day as the girl sat near her mother's bed, trying to hide with a
cheery smile the gnawing trouble at her heart, the mother roused
herself and taking her daughter's hand, gazed earnestly and lovingly
into her eyes. Her breath was labored and she spoke with difficulty:

"My daughter. I am sure that nothing can save me now. When I am dead,
promise me to take care of your dear father and to try to be a good and
dutiful woman."

"Oh, mother," said the girl as the tears rushed to her eyes, "you must
not say such things. All you have to do is to make haste and get
well--that will bring the greatest happiness to father and myself."

"Yes, I know, and it is a comfort to me in my last days to know how
greatly you long for me to get better, but it is not to be. Do not look
so sorrowful, for it was so ordained in my previous state of existence
that I should die in this life just at this time; knowing this, I am
quite resigned to my fate. And now I have something to give you whereby
to remember me when I am gone."

Putting her hand out, she took from the side of the pillow a square
wooden box tied up with a silken cord and tassels. Undoing this very
carefully, she took out of the box the mirror that her husband had
given her years ago.

"When you were still a little child your father went up to the capital
and brought me back as a present this treasure; it is called a mirror.
This I give you before I die. If, after I have ceased to be in this
life, you are lonely and long to see me sometimes, then take out this
mirror and in the clear and shining surface you will always see me--so
will you be able to meet with me often and tell me all your heart; and
though I shall not be able to speak, I shall understand and sympathize
with you, whatever may happen to you in the future." With these words
the dying woman handed the mirror to her daughter.

The mind of the good mother seemed to be now at rest, and sinking back
without another word her spirit passe