“I’m not surprised to hear that,” sobbed Lulu; “for she always was patient and good; never a bit like me.  Oh, it is so hard that I can’t be with her.”

They were standing together in a little group on the veranda while they talked, and the agitation in their faces and voices had attracted attention from scholars and teachers who happened to be within sight and hearing.

Miss Emily now drew near, and asked in a kindly, sympathetic tone what was the matter.

Rosie answered, telling briefly of the serious illness of the two little sisters of Max and Lulu.

“Ah!  I am extremely sorry,” Miss Emily said.  “You will find it difficult to give your minds to your lessons under such trying circumstances; but I will go to my father and the others, and ask that you may be excused if your recitations should be imperfect to-day,”

“That was a kind thought,” said Max, as she went into the house.  “She’s much the best and kindest of the family.”

The ensuing week was one of great sorrow and anxiety to Violet, scarcely less so to her mother; for the children were so dangerously ill that it was greatly feared both would succumb to the power of the disease.

It was a time of sore trial, but it brought out in strong relief the beauty and nobility of character in both Violet and her mother.  They proved themselves the most devoted of nurses, patient, cheerful, hopeful, never giving way to despondency, or wearying in efforts to relieve the little sufferers or wile them into forgetfulness of their pain.

Till the crisis was past they watched over them day and night, aided by Drs. Conly and Percival.

Arthur had obeyed the summons with all possible dispatch, approved of what Dick was doing, and joined him in the care of the little patients.  One or the other was always close at hand.

“This is a sad, anxious time for you, my dear Vi,” Elsie said one evening as they sat together in the sick-room—­Violet with her almost dying babe on her lap, while Grace lay on the bed in an equally critical condition; “but you are bearing up bravely.”

“Dear mamma, you help me very much in so doing,” Violet said, low and tremulously; “so do Arthur and Dick.  But best of all, ’underneath are the everlasting arms.’  O mamma, it seems as if my heart must break if either of the children is taken, and I may be called to part with both—­and their father, my dear, dear husband, so far away.”

She paused, overcome by her emotions.

“‘God is our refuge and strength, a very present help in trouble,’” her mother whispered, with a tenderly sympathetic look. “’He will never leave nor forsake you, dear child.’”

“No, mamma; my heart is constantly saying to Him,

’I have called thee Abba, Father! 
I have stayed my heart on thee;
Storms may howl and clouds may gather—­
All must work for good to me.’”

“Yes, dear child,” Elsie said with emotion, “’we know that all things work together for good to them that love God.’”