again, and it is nearly day."

So light, so very light, the burden seemed, Walter turned his face
aside lest the boy should see the sorrowful emotion painted there,
and with a close embrace he laid him tenderly down to watch the
first ray climbing up the old gray tower.

"The frost lies so thickly on the window-panes that you cannot see
it, even when the light comes, Jamie," said his friend, vainly
trying to gratify the boy's wish.

"The sun will melt it soon, and I can wait,--I can wait, Walter;
it's but a little while;" and Jamie, with a patient smile, turned
his face to the dim window and lay silent.

Higher and higher crept the sunshine till it shone through the
frostwork on the boy's bright head; his bird awoke and carolled
blithely, but he never stirred.

"Asleep at last, poor, tired little Jamie; I'll not wake him till
the day is warmer;" and Walter, folding the coverings closer over
the quiet figure, sat beside it, waiting till it should wake.

"Jamie dear, look up, and see how beautifully your last rose has
blossomed in the night when least we looked for it;" and Bess came
smiling in with the one white rose, so fragrant but so frail.

Jamie did not turn to greet her, for all frost had melted from the
boy's life now; another flower had blossomed in the early dawn, and
though the patient face upon the pillow was bathed in sunshine,