My wife never came near me with a gloomy face, and I had found that it
was quite possible to be sympathetic with those of my flock who were ill
without putting on a long face when I went to see them. Of course, I do not
mean that I could, or that it was desirable that I should, look cheerful
when any were in great pain or mental distress. But in ordinary conditions
of illness a cheerful countenance is as a message of _all's well_, which
may surely be carried into a sick chamber by the man who believes that the
heart of a loving Father is at the centre of things, that he is light all
about the darkness, and that he will not only bring good out of evil
at last, but will be with the sufferer all the time, making endurance
possible, and pain tolerable. There are a thousand alleviations that people
do not often think of, coming from God himself. Would you not say, for
instance, that time must pass very slowly in pain? But have you never
observed, or has no one ever made the remark to you, how strangely fast,
even in severe pain, the time passes after all?

"We will do all we can, will we not," I went on, "to make her as
comfortable as possible? You, Dora, must attend to your little brothers,
that your mother may not have too much to think about now that she will
have Connie to nurse."

They could not say much, but they both kissed me, and went away leaving
me to understand clearly enough that they had quite understood me. I then
returned to the sick chamber, where I found that the poor child had fallen
asleep.

My wife and I watched by her bedside on alternate nights, until the pain
had so far subsided, and the fever was so far reduced, that we could allow
Wynnie to take a share in the office. We could not think of giving her
over to the care of any but one of ourselves during the night. Her chief