dew embosomed there are shed and scattered over the downcast head.  They are drunk in, and by degrees the drooping cup is raised to the friendly fern.  And then, the straight young frond, itself ever growing, waves aside in a natural, graceful sweep, and allows the sunshine in all its strong radiance and reviving force to fall full on the flower.  And the half-closed bell joyously expanding, grows white and strong and beautiful.

And so the crystal pictures change and change, till Hazel’s every helpful act has been set forth.  Then, as the last fades, and the arch of storied light itself dissolves and melts, with one all-absorbing passion of eternal devotion flooding her whole being, Hazel turns to Him who has kept her beside Him throughout, her hand retained in His.  For one moment she beholds Him, the Unutterable One; and in His Sacred Face she reads, amid ineffable love and infinite majesty, a look of gratitude.  And once more the Divine accents fall on her ear, saying—­

“’Inasmuch as thou didst it unto one of these My brethren, even these least, thou didst it unto Me.’

“Let not those, the queens of the earth, to whom I have given the priceless gifts of life and leisure, hold either lightly.  Life, with its sorrows and its joys, is but the education time fitting them to live for ever with Me.  The leisure I have bestowed may be used for Me, in doing work in My garden—­work which I have prepared for them to do, and which I long to see done.  Let them see to it that they waste not the opportunity in fretful discontent and idleness—­’And whosoever shall give to drink unto one of these little ones, a cup of cold water only, in the name of a disciple, verily I say unto you, she shall in no wise lose her reward.’”

* * * * *

Hazel awoke.  The moon was streaming in through the window.  The grate was filled with shining blocks of coal, and a few half-burnt matches.  Aching all over, and shivering with cold, she closed her eyes once more, and a period of insensibility followed.

Many days and nights of feverish illness ensued—­days and nights in which Hazel had much to suffer, and was only from time to time conscious of the loving, unceasing care which watched over her.  In those intervals when her mind was not dazed and confused, she saw a face, old and plain and wrinkled, which was to her as the face of an angel, for Miss Bright tended and watched her with all the self-sacrifice of a noble, true woman.

At length, after a weary, weary time of pain, Hazel fell asleep once more.  Her dream came back to her, for she thought she was resting in the warm sunshine on a bed of lilies in the same beautiful garden.  And when she opened her eyes she found her room was really bright and warm with a fire and sunshine, and fresh and sweet with the fragrance of lilies of the valley, a large bunch of them standing beside her, and more lying on the white coverlid of her bed.  Her eyes filled and her heart swelled with gratitude.  Softly she whispered, as though she spoke to someone close beside her, “Dear Lord, I am so thankful to Thee for making me better.  I so longed to live a little while more to do some work for Thee in Thy garden.  I bless Thee so!”