"Find someone--to tell you--the way,--and come--to
that--beautiful--land--where you will--find Jesus--and mother!"

So calmly did she fall back upon her pillow that Rosa, though
awe-struck, thought she was sleeping. Still clasping the thin hand, she
noticed the chill. Cautiously, lest she might disturb the sleeper, she
slipped off her little flannel skirt, the last article made by her
mother, and wrapped the cold hands within its folds. The scant coverings
she also tucked up more closely and put their last bit of coal upon the
fire.

Till midnight she sat by the bed, wondering why mother was so very
still, and why she was growing so cold. At last, being able to endure
the suspense no longer, stepping across the hall, she called for Mrs.
Gray.

"Land sakes, child, why ain't you in bed this time of night?"

"Please, Mis' Gray, I'd like to borrow a comfort, 'cause mother's so
awful cold, and I can't get her warm."

"Well, when a body's as accommodatin' as I am, I 'spose they must expect
to be bothered any time of day or night, too. I'll git up and see what
your ma wants. Glad of one thing, she ain't kept me awake by her
coughin' tonight, anyway; but it comes from me fixin' her a decent
supper, I reckon."

Mrs. Gray stepped to the door of Mrs. Browning's room, but something
impelled her to stop. A fear seized her, while involuntarily she