bidding us a tender, and it seemed to me a
peculiarly solemn farewell, he went on board the canoe, which
immediately set sail on her return. We accompanied him to the beach,
and watched the vessel till she was lost to sight in the distance.
On our return home we found my mother suffering greatly. The agitation
of parting from my father had been more than she could bear. Oh, how I
longed to recall him! Little could he have known her dangerous state.
My father had a knowledge of medicine, and he might have applied
remedies of which we were ignorant. Good Abela came up on hearing how
ill my mother was, though she could afford us but little assistance.
Suddenly, as I gazed at my mother, a fearful conviction came upon me
that she was dying. She knew herself that such was the case. I cannot
even now bear to dwell upon the sad scene, for sad indeed it was to us,
though my mother's heart was lifted up with joy and hope.
"God's will be done, my children," she said, taking Maud's and my hand
in hers. "He will care for and protect you though troubles arise which
may seem overwhelming."
Abela and Nanari assured her that they would devote themselves to our
service, yet the absence of my father must have been a sore trial to
her.
During that night she breathed her last, and I was left motherless; so,
indeed, was dear Maud, to whom she had been truly a mother.
Then quickly followed the funeral. All the Christians of the settlement
stood round the grave, in a beautiful spot which had been set apart for
the purpose, at a short distance from the chapel, when Nanari offered up
a prayer that God's Holy Spirit would influence the hearts of all
present, and enable them to possess the same hope of a joyous
resurrection as that in which my mother died, he then addressed the
people, urging them to put faith in God's goodness and wisdom, and
telling them that though troubles might come, not therefore to suppose
that He had forgotten to be gracious, but to go on praying and trusting
in Him, till He might think fit to call them out of this world, to be
with Him in glory and happiness unspeakable.
Maud and I spent that sad evening with our hands clasped together, often
weeping but seldom speaking. My heart bled for my poor father, as I
thought of his grief and anguish, when, on his return he would find that
my mother had been taken from him.
"Still," said Maud, looking up in my face, "he will know that she is in
joy surpas
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