"Nothing; she is sane and safe at last, thank God!"

Christie could not but echo his thanksgiving, for the blessed
tranquillity of the girl's countenance was such as none but death,
the great healer, can bring; and, as they looked, her eyes opened,
beautifully clear and calm before they closed for ever. From face to
face they passed, as if they looked for some one, and her lips moved
in vain efforts to speak.

Christie went to her, but still the wide, wistful eyes searched the
room as if unsatisfied; and, with a longing that conquered the
mortal weakness of the body, the heart sent forth one tender cry:

"My mother--I want my mother!"

There was no need to repeat the piteous call, for, as it left her
lips, she saw her mother's face bending over her, and felt her
mother's arms gathering her in an embrace which held her close even
after death had set its seal upon the voiceless prayers for pardon
which passed between those reunited hearts.

When she was asleep at last, Christie and her mother made her ready
for her grave; weeping tender tears as they folded her in the soft,
white garment she had put by for that sad hour; and on her breast
they laid the flowers she had hung about her lover as a farewell
gift. So beautiful she looked when all was done, that in the early
dawn they called her brothers, that they might not lose the memory
of the blessed peace that shone upon her face, a mute assurance that
for her the new year had happily begun.