Something prompted me to make early visit to the hospital, so went
before breakfast. In first ward went straight to little Mita
Duvenhagen's bed, and her I found very bad--struggling hard to
breathe; so young and yet so bitter a suffering!

From there called by Mrs. Van den Berg to new ward, to come quickly,
as Lenie was dying. I went, and when I entered saw that God was going
to take her away. Let me not attempt to describe her angelic little
face of marble white, her beautifully chiselled nose, and her sweet
little mouth! Silently we knelt around her bedside--mother, nurse,
and I. Of her beautiful blue eyes I have said nothing, for they were
closed--the lids gently drawn, and the lashes trying hard to kiss the
soft smooth cheeks. "O God, come and help us! O Saviour, come and
take Thy place beside her bed--hold her hand--take her in Thy tender
arms and press her to Thy bosom! Bear her, Saviour, where Thou wilt,
for with Thee she is safe. Comfort our hearts and give us to bend our
heads in humble resignation--Thy will be done. Amen!"

"Lenie, Lenie, Lenie, mij kind, jou mammie is hier bij jou, en Jezus
ook is hier om jou hand te hou--moenie bang wees nie, mij kind" ("My
child, your mother is here, near you, and Jesus too is here to hold
your hand--don't be afraid, child"). Under her weary eyelids she
looked at us, and a large tear gathered in her left eye. It glistened
like a diamond for a moment, and then became the possession of the
sorrow-stricken mother. Then we were silent and watched. Slowly and
gently the lids opened--now again we could look into those clear blue
orbs. Wider--wider--and still wider they grow--uplifted, right away
beyond the three forms of clay before her. See how the pupils
dilate--they seem to swamp the blue! And so for a few short moments