nk God, mine did not fail me. If they had
not come, I think I could never have borne this last misery that earth
can inflict upon me. My mother is dead."

"Why distress yourself with sad forebodings? Weakness makes you
despondent, but you must try to hope for the best; and I dare say in a
few days, you will have good news from your mother."

"I shook hands with Hope, and in her place sits the only companion who
will abide with me during the darkness that is coming on--Patience,
pale-browed, meek-eyed, sad-lipped Patience. If I can only keep my hold
upon her skirts, till the end. To me, no good news can ever come. As
long as mother lived, I had an incentive to struggle; now I am alone,
and they who thirst for my blood are welcome to take it speedily. I
know my mother is dead; I have seen her."

"Wake up, child. Your brain is weak yet and full of queer delirious
visions, and when you doze, realities and dreams are all jumbled
together. You have a deal too much sense to harbor any crazy spiritual
crankiness. Take your wine, and lie down. You have sat up too long, and
tired yourself."

"No. I have wanted to tell you for several days, because you have been
so good, and I have heard you praying here at night that God would be
merciful to me; but I waited until I had strength to be calm. I have
lain here day after day, and night after night, face to face with
desolation and despair, and now I have grown accustomed to the horror.
I know that in this world there is no escape, no help, no hope; so--the
worst is over. When you consent to fate, and stretch out your arms to
meet death, there is no more terror, only waiting, weary waiting. I am
not superstitious, and unfortunately I am not one of the victims of
dementia, whose spectral woes are born of disordered brains. I am sadly
sane; and what I am about to tell you is no figment of feverish fancy.
I do not know how long I have been sick, but one night great peace and
ease came suddenly upon me. I swung in some soft tender arms, close to
the gates of Release, and the iron bars melted away, and my soul was
borne toward the wonderful light; but suddenly a shock, a strange
thrill ran through me, and the bars rose again, and the light faded.
Then all at once my father and my mother stood beside me, bent over me.
Father said: 'Courage, my daughter, courage! Bear your cross a little
longer,' My mother wept, and said, 'My good little girl. So faithful,
so true. I died in peace, trust