Mother could stand it no longer; she sobbed aloud, took Horieneke under
the arms and lifted her to her breast. She felt a lump in her throat and
could hardly get out her words:

"It's all forgiven, my darling. God bless you and keep you! And now go
quick to bed; you have to be up early to-morrow."

Horieneke put her arm over mother's shoulders and whispered softly in her
ear:

"I have something else to ask you, mother. All the children's parents are
going to communion to-morrow: shall you too, mother?"

"Make your heart easy, dear; it'll be all right."

"Mother, will you call me in good time to-morrow morning?"

"Yes, yes; go to bed."

The house grew quiet as the grave; and soon a manifold snoring and
grunting sounded all through the bedroom and the loft. Outside it was
twilight and the blossoms shone pale white in the orchard. The crickets
chirped far and near....

This was the last evening and morning: when it was once more so late and
dark, everything would be over and done! All those days, all that long
array of light and darkness, of learning and repeating lessons--a good
time nevertheless--was past and gone; and, now that the great thing,
always so remote, so inaccessible, was close at hand, she was almost
sorry that the longing and the aching were to cease and she almost felt