ent after she pressed the hand
of Fanny, and murmured,--

"HOPE AND HAVE."

She was silent then; her bosom soon ceased to heave; the ransomed
spirit rose from the pain-encumbered body, and soared away to its
angel-home!

CHAPTER X.

GOOD OUT OF EVIL.

Peacefully, on what had been her couch of pain, lay the silent form of
Jenny. The room resounded with the sobs of the mother and the brother,
and hardly less with the wailings of the stranger, who, in a few brief
hours had found and lost the truest and best of earthly friends. The
darkness gathered, and still they wept--the darkness from which Jenny
had fled to the brightness of the eternal world, where there is no
night or sorrow. There was woe in that humble abode, while heaven's
high arches rang with paeans of rejoicing that a ransomed soul had
joined the happy bands above.

There were no kind and sympathizing friends to go into that hovel and
deck the marble form in the vestments of the grave. Fanny was the first
to realize that there was something to be done: she was a stranger to
such a scene; she knew not what to do; but she told Mrs. Kent that she
would go out and obtain assistance. With hurried step she walked down
to the residence of the physician who had so gently and feelingly
ministered to the sufferer. She found the doctor at home, and informed
him of the sad event. Since his return he had told his wife and
daughter of the beautiful girl who was dying in the cottage up the
street. He called them into his library, and Fanny, with tearful eyes
and broken voice, repeated her narrative of the passing away of poor
Jenny.

The ladies promptly expressed their intention to visit the bereaved
mother, and discharge the duties the occasion required. A carriage was
called, in which the benevolent physician, his wife and daughter, and
Fanny, proceeded to the house of Mrs. Kent. They were the kindest and
tenderest of friends, and the sorrowing mother, grateful to them for
their good offices, and grateful to God for sending them to her, was
relieved of a great load of pain and anxiety. At a late hour they
departed, with the promise to come again on the following day.

Hour after hour Mrs. Kent and Fanny sat in the chamber of death,
talking about the gentle one who had passed away, and was at rest. It
was nearly morning before Fanny, worn out by excitement and fatigue,
could be prevailed upon to take the rest she needed. Mrs. Kent made a
bed for her on th