borne into her room feeling, she
said, very comfortable. I wanted to stay with her through the night, but
she said:

"No, the baby needs you; so does Louis; I know how he feels; my night
will be peaceful and my rest sweet; Aunt Hildy will rest beside me."

"Yes, yes, I'll stay, and we shall both rest well," said Aunt Hildy.

In the morning she was weak, but we dressed her, and after eating a
little she felt better, and in the afternoon seemed very comfortable and
happy. We had our supper at a little after five o'clock, and at six
o'clock, as she had wished, all were in her room.

"Louis, roll my chair into the centre of the room, and let me face the
west, for I love to see day's glory die. Now come, good friends all, and
sit near me, where I can see your faces. I want to tell you that I am
going out of your sight, and I have left to each of you what seemed good
and right to me. I hope, yes, I know you will remember that I love you
all so much I would never be forgotten. You are grown so dear to me that
I shall not forget to look upon you; and please remember that I am not
dead, but shall be to you a living, active friend, who sees and knows
your needs, and to whose heart may be entrusted some dear mission for
your greatest good. Mr. and Mrs. Turner," and she held her hands to
Jane and her husband, "be true and faithful to each other. Leave no work
undone, love the children, and ask help from the hills, whence it shall
ever come. You will, I am sure;" and her eyes turned inquiringly upon
them.

"Oh, Mis' _De_-Mond," said Jane, "I will, oh, you blessed angel woman!"

"I will, so help me God!" said Mr. Turner, and they took their seats,
while Clara, with a motion that said please come, called:

"Matthias and Aunt Peg, and you too, John, don't think I can ever forget
you. You will come to me, and you will know me there, and, John, you
have a wonderful work to do; your words will bear sweet tidings to your
race, and your reward shall be that of the well-doer."

"Oh, de good Lord! white lamb, how kin we ever let you go; you's done
got hold on our heart-strings! Oh, de good Lord bless ye, ye snow-white
darlin', an' ef it's de Mas'r's will, den we mus' lib all in the dark
widout ye, but de light ob your eyes is hevin to dis ole heart!"

"Oh, that's true' nuf!" said Aunt Peg, "God'll take care on you, but
what'll we do?" and their groans fell like the wailing winds upon the
ears of us all; our hearts were touched to the