e largest mansions in the town, the glass was moistened by the
crystal drops. But heavier and colder was the dew that gathered upon the
forehead of the sufferer within; for extended upon the couch lay a dying
woman.

The trembling hand of an aged man wiped the forehead, and the tears that
stood in his eye told that his remaining days on earth must be uncheered
by the kind voice and radiant smile of her who had been a mother to his
children. Those children, grown to full age, were there, and if need be
could have borne clear and convincing testimony that sometimes, at
least, the connection between a step-mother and her husband's family is
only productive of good. But where were her own offspring? Three noble
looking men, and as many matrons, owed their existence and education to
her, and she had hoped, ere she died, to behold once more their faces.

Soft and gentle were the hands that smoothed her pillow; low and sweet
were the voices that inquired of her wants, but dear to her as were
these, they were not _her own_, and the mother's heart yearned once more
to trace their father's likeness in the tall dark-eyed sons who but a
few years ago were cradled in her arms. And can these feelings cause the
pang which seems at once to contract the face? So thinks her
step-daughter, as she says, "They will be here to-morrow, mother." "It
is not that, my dear," murmured the sick one, "but when I was just now
enjoying the blessedness of committing my soul to Him who died for me,
when feeling my own unworthiness of one of his many mercies, I had cast
myself on the mercy of the 'Sinner's Friend,' like a wave of agony
rushed in upon me the thought that my dear sons have denied the divinity
of the Savior, into whose name they were baptized, and who laid down his
life to redeem them. Oh! could I be assured that they would be led back
to their fathers' God, I could die happy." There was stillness in this
chamber of death. The invalid's pale lips moved as if in prayer, and
soon the lids were raised, and the brilliant black eye was lighted up as
of old, and triumphant was the strain that burst forth. "I know in whom
I have believed, and am persuaded that He will keep that which I have
committed to Him, my most precious treasures, _my children_, against
that day. I know Him--I rest in His faithfulness." The smile lingered on
her features, but the spirit had fled.

* * * * *

The Green Mountain range in Massac