er waist. "Bear up, dear wife," he said, "we will
hope our precious darling is not very ill."

She told him of the child's words, and the sad foreboding that had entered
her own heart.

"While there is life there is hope, dearest," he said, with assumed
cheerfulness. "Let us not borrow trouble. Does He not say to us, as to the
disciples of old, 'It is I, be not afraid'?"

"Yes; and she is His; only lent to us for a season; and we dare not rebel
should He see fit to recall His own," she answered, amid her tears. "Oh,
Edward, I am so glad we indulged her this morning in her wish to play with
my jewels!"

"Yes; she is the most precious of them all," he said with emotion.

Aunt Chloe, drawing near, respectfully suggested that it might be well to
separate the children, in case the little girl's illness should prove to
be contagious.

"That is a wise thought, mammy," said Elsie. "Is it not, Edward?"

"Yes, wife; shall we take our little daughter to our own bedroom, and
leave Eddie in possession of the nursery?"

"Yes, I will never leave her while she is ill."

Weeks of anxious solicitude, of tenderest, most careful nursing, followed;
for the little one was very ill, and for some time grew worse hour by
hour. For days there was little hope that her life would be spared, and a
solemn silence reigned through the house; even the romping, fun-loving
Horace and Rosie, awe-struck into stillness, and often shedding
tears--Horace in private, fearing to be considered unmanly, but Rosie
openly and without any desire of concealment--at the thought that the
darling of the house was about to pass away from earth.

Rose was filled with grief, the father, and grandfather were almost
heart-broken. But the mother! That first night she had scarcely closed an
eye, but continually her heart was going up in earnest supplications for
grace and strength to meet this sore trial with patience, calmness, and
submission.

And surely the prayer was heard and answered; day and night she was with
her suffering little one, watching beside its crib, or holding it in her
arms, soothing it with tender words of mother love, or singing, in low
sweet tones, of Jesus and the happy land.

Plenty of excellent nurses were at hand, more than willing to relieve her
of her charge; but she would relinquish it to no one; except when
compelled to take a little rest that her strength might not utterly fail
her. Even then she refused to leave the room, but lay