's, and she moistened the bed with tears: she
could not restrain her sobs. Her mother passed her arm around her, and
strove to comfort her: she told her that, although she must now leave
her, and go where her dear father and grandfather awaited her, her
little girl had one friend who would never cast her off, and who could
never die, who had promised to be the father of the fatherless. Whatever
should befall her, she must put all her trust in Him who had said, "When
thy father and thy mother forsake thee, then the Lord shall take thee
up." With all the energy which the love of a dying woman could give, she
besought her child to cleave with perfect love to Him who was so kind
and pitiful. She then placed around her neck a medallion, inclosing a
portrait of herself and her husband, with their initials, the date of
their marriage, and locks of their hair, and told her never to part with
it, but to wear it next her heart. She directed her to be in all
respects obedient to her uncle, and ever to act toward him as if he were
her own father. At last, exhausted by the the long conversation she had
held, she sank back and fell asleep: it was so sweet and natural a rest,
that Margaret long waited by her side, afraid to stir lest she should
awake her mother. A happy smile seemed diffused over that face, lately
so earnest and so anxious; it appeared to say, my troubles are now over,
my work is done, I have entered into my reward. And so it was! the
sorrow-stricken woman had gently passed away from earth, and little
Margaret was watching beside the dead.

Shall I attempt to describe the grief of the child, deprived of all she
loved? The rough, but kindly sailors were much moved by it, and strove,
in their uncouth way, to comfort her. After the first few days of
passionate lamentation, the motherless girl became more quiet in her
sorrow, and then the demonstrations of sympathy ceased: but any one who
gazed upon her wasted form, her white cheek, and languid steps, might
have guessed the tears she shed upon her pillow at night. At last the
vessel arrived in Boston, and Margaret's heart beat quick each time she
saw a good-looking gentleman step on board, for every instant she
thought her unknown uncle would arrive. She tried to fancy how he
looked, and although she had heard that he and her father were very
unlike, still her imagination brought up before her a face like that
within her highly-prized medallion. So passed the day, in anxio