iers of reserve which a difference of age or position
raises; and there seemed no inappropriateness in the grave, earnest
words that now and then fell from the lips of the little maid. Indeed,
weak in body and exhausted in mind as the troubles of the winter and
spring had left her, Mrs Lee found positive rest and refreshment in the
society which might at another time have seemed unsuitable; and mingled
with the gratitude with which she saw Christie's devotion to the sick
child was a feeling of respect and admiration for the character which
was gradually developing before her eyes.

How long the days and nights seemed! Little Harry's robust frame and
fine constitution availed him little. The fever raged with great
violence; and the close of the week found the doctor still in doubt as
to how it might end with him. His mother's strength and hopefulness had
held out wonderfully till this time; but when the baby, the fair and
fragile little Ellinor, was stricken down, faith, strength, and courage
seemed to fail her. It was not long, however. The child's need gave
the mother strength; and the baby needed nothing long. The other
children were sent away to a friend's house in the country; and silence,
broken only by the moans of the little ones or the hushed voices of
their anxious nurses, reigned through the house, lately echoing to far
other sounds.

Before three silent days had passed, the mother knew that her baby must
die. In the presence of her unutterable sorrow Christie was mute. The
awe which fell upon her in the dread presence left her no words with
which to comfort the stricken mother. But in her heart she never ceased
through all that last long night to pray, "God comfort her."

And she _was_ comforted. Though her tears fell fast on the folded hands
of her child as she said the words, they were humbly and reverently
spoken:

"`Thy will be done.' It would have been harder to leave my child than
to let her go!--and now one of my darlings is safe from all sorrow for
ever!"

The father came home just in time to lay his little daughter in the
grave; and then both father and mother sat down to wait. For what? For
the gradual return of the rose to the cheek and the light to the eye of
little Harry? Alas, no! It was not to be. A keener pang was to pierce
the heart of the stricken mother. For to part with little Harry was a
far harder trial to anticipate than even the loss of her baby had been
to bear