e Thy will that I perish, receive my spirit,
and let this weak, vain body, unmangled, be given back to my poor
grief-stricken parents. God and Saviour, hear me!"

There now came to her ear the voice of running water. It had a sweet
sound of companionship and hope, and she made towards it, and soon
found herself on the banks of a wild and rapid stream. "Oh, thanks!
thanks!" she murmured, "this runs from darkness out to human
habitations, somewhere. It will lead out to daylight, and on its banks
are human homes, somewhere. Oh, give me strength to follow it, it is
so hard to perish here!"

The wind had long been blowing, and had now risen to a tempest, bitter
and sharp from the north, and the trees were bending and breaking
under its fury. Julia was thoroughly chilled, and her feet were
benumbed with cold. She had been aware for some time that snow was
sifting over her, and rattling on the dry leaves under her feet.
She was dizzy, and almost overcome with sleep; and was conscious of
strange visions and queer voices, that seemed to haunt her senses.
Could she hold out till morning? She could not fix her wandering mind,
even on this question. She occasionally heard her own voice in broken
murmurs, but did not understand what she said. It was like the voice
of another. She knew her mouth was dry and parched with thirst, but
never thought of trying to drink from the stream, whose drowsy voice
ran through her wandering consciousness. The impulse to move on
remained long after all intelligent power of directing her movements
had left her; and blindly and mechanically, she staggered and reeled
about for a few or many minutes, until she sank to the earth unable
and unwilling to struggle further. Her last act was with pure womanly
instinct, to draw her torn and draggled skirts about her limbs and
feet. The faces of her father and mother, warm and sweet, were with
her for a moment, and she tried to think of her Heavenly Father; and
another face was all the time present, full of tenderness and love;
and then all faded into oblivion, blank and utter ...

What was it? something whispered, or seemed to whisper in her heart as
vague consciousness returned, unutterably sweet; was it the voice
of an angel coming to bear her hence? Once again! and now her ear
caught--and still again--a voice of earth, clear; and it had power
to start her up from under the snow, that was surely weaving and
thickening her virgin winding-sheet. God in heave