she hastened homeward.

No sooner did she come in sight of her home, than she perceived a horse
and carriage standing by the gate. She recognized it in a moment; it was
the doctor's. A cold shudder passed over her, and an indefinable fear
entered her mind. She hastened onward and entered the house.

Upon the bed lay little Katie; her eyes fixed upon the wall, seemingly
unconscious of all that passed around her, sending forth low moans, as
if in great pain. Beside her sat the doctor, counting the beatings of
her pulse, and closely observing the alterations of her countenance.

"I cannot give you much encouragement," said he. "It is a disease of
the brain. All shall be done for her that is possible, but I fear there
is not much hope."

Alas! it was even so; all was done in vain. She laid day after day, a
helpless sufferer. It was long before the vital energy was spent; but
through all this weary time, there was one constant watcher by her
bed-side.

Annie, with the impression of a deep truth upon her soul, felt that
_now_ was the time to act, and most faithfully did she perform her duty.
And when, at last, sweet Katie died, with a warm gush of tears she laid
one of the flowers that she had gathered from the hill-side upon her
bosom, and clasping her arms around her mother's neck, she said:
"Mother, dear sister is gone, and now I must be both Annie and Katie to
you; and if God will help me, I shall be more of a blessing to you than
I ever yet have been."