will yet meet me in heaven."

She also addressed a few words of like import to Aunt Patience.
Suddenly, she raised her hands, and, as she looked upward, with a smile
upon her countenance, we heard a sigh--and her spirit had returned unto
God Who gave it.

I was borne from the apartment in a state of insensibility, and, when I
awoke to consciousness, the doctor and Aunt Patience were standing at my
bedside. After administering a quieting draught, the physician left us,
saying to Aunt Patience that she must try and induce me to sleep, as
that would help to restore my shattered nerves. Aunt Patience sat by me
during the long hours of that night, but it was not until the day began
to dawn that I sank into a heavy slumber, from which I did not awake
until a late hour in the morning. On first awaking, it seemed to me that
I had had a frightful dream; but, as my mind became more clear, I
realized the sad truth that my mother was no more. I heard a footstep
enter my room, and soon a familiar voice addressed me, saying,--

"My dear Clara, I have come to see if I can be of any assistance to you
in your sorrow."

It was Mrs. Leighton who had thus entered my room, she having hastened
to our dwelling as soon as she learned of my mother's death. I could not
at first reply to her kind words; I could only weep. She did not force
me to talk, but, gently as a mother could have done, did she bathe my
fevered brow and throbbing temples. Telling me to remain quiet for a few
moments, she left the room, and soon returned, bearing a cup of tea,
which she insisted upon my drinking. She assisted me to dress, and
opened a window to admit the cool morning air. I tearfully thanked her