w suddenly struck down the robust
man, and left him feeble as a child. And the little orphan girl who, in
her weakness, her loneliness, and her poverty, found in him a father and
a mother, she now is all the world to him--his staff, his comfort, and
his hope. During four or five years that he has cherished the frail
blossom, she has been gaining strength for the time when _he_ should be
the leaning, _she_ the sustaining power; and when the time came, she was
ready to respond to the call. With the simplicity of a child, but a
woman's firmness; with the stature of a child, but a woman's capacity;
the earnestness of a child, but a woman's perseverance--from morning
till night, the faithful little nurse and housekeeper labours untiringly
in the service of her first, her best friend. Ever at his side, ever
attending to his wants, and yet most wonderfully accomplishing many
things which he never sees her do, she seems, indeed, to the fond old
man, what he once prophesied she would become--God's embodied blessing
to his latter years, cheering his pathway to the grave.

Though disease had robbed True's limbs of their power, the blast had
spared his mind, which was clear and tranquil as ever; while his pious
heart was fixed in humble trust on that God whose presence and love he
had ever acknowledged, and on whom he so fully relied, that even in this
bitter trial he was able to say, in perfect submission, "Thy will, not
mine, be done!"

Only about two months previous to the morning of which we have been
speaking had True been stricken down. He had been in failing health, but
had still been able to attend to his duties until one day in June, when
Gerty went into his room, and found, to her surprise, that he had not
risen, although it was much later than his usual hour. On going to the
bedside and speaking to him, she saw that he looked strangely, and had
lost the power of speech. Bewildered and frightened, she ran to call
Mrs. Sullivan. A physician was summoned, the case pronounced one of
paralysis, and for a time it was feared that it would prove fatal. He
soon, however, began to amend, recovered his speech, and in a week or
two was well enough to walk about with Gerty's assistance.

The doctor had recommended as much gentle exercise as possible, and
every pleasant morning, before the day grew warm, Gerty presented
herself equipped for those walks, which excited so much observation. At
the same time she made such little househo