That night, when Mr. Abbot closed his family Bible, and they all knelt together to implore God’s mercy, fervent was the supplication that arose from the lips of the husband and father, as he besought grace for every time of need.  The heart of the husband was full as he prayed our Father to stay the disease of his dear wife, and earnestly repeated, “if it be possible let this cup pass from me;” but after wrestling long, that peace came that passeth understanding—­that peace that the God that heareth prayer bestows upon his children when they bow themselves before Him, and cast their burden upon Him who careth for us, and ere he arose from his knees he was made to say, “Thy will, not mine be done;” and they retired to rest beneath the shadow of the Almighty, and felt that his watchful eye was upon them during the silent hours of the night.

Early the following morning Mr. Abbot started, to go down the river (as was the usual phrase) to Matilda’s grandfather’s, where Annie and Ellen, the two younger sisters resided, having both left the residence of their mother some time previous.  Annie, then eighteen, had the sole management of the family, as her grandmother was very feeble, and unable to assist her at all.  She was rather surprised at Mr. Abbot’s arrival, and quite alarmed when she heard the import of it.  It was immediately settled that Ellen should go with him, and preparation was accordingly made for their departure early the following morning, every thing being attended to by the careful Annie, who supplied the place of mother to the younger sister, who was now about sixteen.

Suffice it to say, the assistance was not productive of the anticipated good; Matilda’s health declined rapidly, and it became evident to all who looked upon her, that she was passing away to the spirit land.  The struggle in her husband’s mind was over, and he felt a pious resignation to the will of God.

Frequently did they converse together upon the joys of the heavenly world, and select such passages of Scripture as are calculated to prepare the soul for its upward flight.

“O Charles,” said Matilda, one beautiful autumn day, as the yellow sun shed his mild radiance over the decaying face of nature, “support me by your strong arm while we pass through the garden to the river by the nearest way.  I feel quite refreshed to-day, and would look once more upon that restless stream that is ever hurrying on ’to meet old Ocean.’”

He placed his arm lovingly round her waist, and almost bore her to the spot, scarcely feeling her weight, so fragile had she become.  Frank and Willie accompanied them with their happy countenances and glad voices, and plucking a bunch of fading flowers, presented them to their mother.

She watched them with a tranquil smile, and rewarded them with a kiss as she took the proffered boquet from the uplifted hands of her dear children.  Frank was a noble boy, with dark brown hair and coal black eyes, inheriting his mother’s beauty.  Willie was a feeble child, with hair of lighter brown and eyes of azure blue, that betrayed a noble soul in their very depths.