her face, she continued: "Do not fear, my son; I shall not die. I cannot
die until that of which I have spoken to you has been accomplished."

I rejoiced at her words, yet, at the same time, they gave me pain; for
it seemed as though she knew how much my heart had been troubled by that
ignoble fear.

"Dear mother, may I say something?" I asked, wishing to tell her of my
resolutions.

"Not now; I know what you wish to say," she returned. "Be patient and
hopeful always, and fear nothing, even though we should be long divided;
for it will be many days before I can leave this room to speak with you
again."

So softly had she whispered, that the others who stood so near were not
aware that she had spoken at all.

After this brief colloquy she closed her eyes, but for some time the low
moans of pain continued. Gradually they sank lower, and became less and
less frequent, while the lines of pain faded out of her white,
death-like face. And at length Yoletta, stealing softly to my side,
whispered, "She is sleeping," and withdrawing my hand, led me away.

When we were again in the Mother's Room she threw her arms about my neck
and burst into a tempest of tears.

"Dearest Yoletta, be comforted," I said, pressing her to my breast; "she
will not die."