her
family may please to come here, we shall receive them with kindness and
affection; but I will not suffer you to run the risk of listening to
such unfeeling prognostications in future."

In the meantime her health continued in a state sufficiently
satisfactory to her father. It is true an occasional alarm was felt from
time to time, as a slight cold, accompanied with its hard and unusual
cough, happened to supervene; but in general it soon disappeared, and
in a brief space she became perfectly recovered, and free from every
symptom of the dreadful malady.

In this way the tenor of her pure and innocent life went on, until she
reached her sixteenth year. Never did a happier young creature enjoy
existence--never lived a being more worthy of happiness. Her inseparable
and bosom friend was Alice Goodwin, now her sister according to their
artless compact of love. They spent weeks and months alternately with
each other; but her father never permitted a day to pass without
seeing her, and every visit filled his happy spirit with more hopeful
anticipations.

At this period it occurred to him to have their portraits drawn, and
on hearing him mention this intention, their young hearts were ecstatic
with delight.

"But, papa," said Agnes, "if you do I have a favor to ask of you."

"Granted, Agnes, if it be possible."

"O, quite possible, papa; it is to get both our portraits painted in
the same frame, for, do you know, I don't think I could feel happy if
Alice's portrait was separated from mine."

"It shall be done, darling--it shall be done."

And it was done, accordingly; for what father could refuse a request
founded upon an affection so tender and beautiful as theirs?

Agnes has now entered her seventeenth year--but how is this? Why does
her cheek begin to get alternately pale and red? And why does the
horizon of the father's heart begin to darken? Alas! it is so--the
spoiler is upon her at last. Appetite is gone--her spirits are gone,
unless in these occasional ebullitions of vivacity which resemble the
lightnings which flash from the cloud that is gathering over her. It
would be painful to dwell minutely upon the history of her illness--upon
her angelic patience and submission to the will of God, and upon the
affection, now consecrated by approaching death into something sacred,
which she exhibited to her father and Alice. The latter was never from
her during the progress of that mournful decline. The poor dyin