“As long as you, or Master Arthur and Miss Alice live, they would be better off as they are,” said Phillis.

“I believe they would,” said Mr. Weston, “but life and death cannot be too much considered in connection with each other.  I must soon go.  I am only lingering at the close of a long journey.  Arthur will then have control, and will, I am certain, make his servants as happy as he can.  My family is very small; you are aware I have no near relations.  I have made my will, and should Arthur and Alice die without children, I have left all my servants free.  Your children I have thus provided for.  At my death they are free, but I would not feel justified in turning them into the world without some provision.  The older children can take care of themselves; they are useful and have good principles.  I have willed each one of them to be free at the age of twenty years.  Thus, you see, most of them will soon be free, while none will have to wait very long.  In the mean time they will be well taught and cared for.  My will is made, and all the forms of law attended to.  Arthur and Alice are very much pleased with it.  Your older children know it; they are very happy, but they declare they will never leave Exeter as long as there is a Weston upon it.[B] And now, Phillis, are you satisfied?  I shall experience great pleasure in having been able to relieve you of any anxiety while you have so much pain to bear.”

“Oh! master,” said Phillis, “what shall I say to you?  I haven’t no learning.  I am only a poor, ignorant woman.  I can’t thank you, master, as I ought.  My heart is nigh to bursting.  What have I done that the Lord is so good to me.  He has put it into your heart to make me so happy; Thank you, master, and God for ever bless you.”

The tears streamed down her cheeks, as Mr. Weston arose to go.  Esther had come to see if her mother wanted any thing.

“Master,” said Phillis, “wait one moment—­there’s nothing between me and Heaven now.  Oh! sir, I shall soon be redeemed from all sin and sorrow.  I think I see the glory that shines about the heavenly gates.  I have never felt myself ready to go until now, but there is nothing to keep me.  The Lord make your dying bed as easy as you have mine.”

Mr. Weston endeavored to compose himself, but was much agitated.  “Phillis,” he said, “you have deserved more than I could ever do for you.  If any thing should occur to you that I have not thought of, let me know, it shall, if possible, be done.  Would you like again to see Mr. Caldwell, and receive the communion?”

“No, master, I thank you.  You and Miss Janet, and Miss Anna, and poor Bacchus, took it with me last week, and I shall soon be where there will be no more need to remind me of the Lamb that was slain; for I shall be with him; I shall see him as he is.  And, master, we will all meet there.  We will praise him together.”

Esther was weeping; and Mr. Weston, quite overcome, left the room.