period of insensibility followed.

Many days and nights of feverish illness ensued--days and nights in
which Hazel had much to suffer, and was only from time to time
conscious of the loving, unceasing care which watched over her. In those
intervals when her mind was not dazed and confused, she saw a face, old
and plain and wrinkled, which was to her as the face of an angel, for
Miss Bright tended and watched her with all the self-sacrifice of a
noble, true woman.

At length, after a weary, weary time of pain, Hazel fell asleep once
more. Her dream came back to her, for she thought she was resting in the
warm sunshine on a bed of lilies in the same beautiful garden. And when
she opened her eyes she found her room was really bright and warm with a
fire and sunshine, and fresh and sweet with the fragrance of lilies of
the valley, a large bunch of them standing beside her, and more lying on
the white coverlid of her bed. Her eyes filled and her heart swelled
with gratitude. Softly she whispered, as though she spoke to someone
close beside her, "Dear Lord, I am so thankful to Thee for making me
better. I so longed to live a little while more to do some work for Thee
in Thy garden. I bless Thee so!"

The door opened, and Brightie came in. The brave old woman broke down as
she clasped Hazel in her joy at the improvement in her. The two cried
together for a little while; there was so very much to be glad about
that the gladness was too great for self-control.

A few days later, a girl with a white but radiantly happy face is
resting in a cane armchair, her feet supported by a footstool, in the
garden of a pretty country house at Fridorf. The sunshine is hot, but