“No—­no, sister, I won’t leave you again,” said Ellen, soothingly, her tears starting afresh.

The words of Margaret smote upon the heart of Mary, whose great eagerness to get the mourning dress done, so that she could go out on Sunday, had been the cause of Ellen’s long detention from her sick sister.  She hastily turned away from the bed, and seated herself by the window, As she sat there, the image of her baby-brother came up vividly before her mind, and with it the feeling of desolation which the loss of a dear one always occasions.  And with this painful emotion of grief, there arose in her mind a distinct consciousness that, since her thoughts had become interested in the getting and making up of her mourning dress, she had felt but little of the keen sorrow that had at first overwhelmed her, and that now came back upon her mind like a flood.  As she sat thus in silent communion with herself, she was enabled to perceive that, in her own mind, there had been much less of a desire to commemorate the death of her brother, in putting on mourning, than to appear before others to be deeply affected with grief.  She saw that the black garments were not to remind herself of the dear departed one, but to show to others that the babe was still remembered and still mourned.  In her present state of keen perception of interior and true motives, she felt deeply humbled, and inwardly resolved that, on the morrow, she would not go out for the too vain purpose of displaying her mourning apparel.  Just as this resolution became fixed in her mind, a sudden movement at the bedside arrested her attention, and she again joined the group there.

Her heart throbbed with a sudden and quicker pulsation, as her eye fell upon the face of Margaret.  A great change had passed upon it; death had placed his sign there, and no eye could misunderstand its import.  Rapidly now did the work of dissolution go on, and just as the day dawned, Margaret sank quietly away into that deep sleep that knows no earthly waking.

After rendering all such offices as were required, Mrs. Condy and Mary went home, the latter promising Ellen that she would return and remain with her through the day.  At the breakfast table, Mr. Condy so directed the conversation as to give the solemn event they had been called to witness its true impression upon the minds of his family.  Before the meal closed, it was resolved that Jane and Mary should go to the humble dwelling of Ellen, and remain with her through the day; and that after the funeral, the expense of which Mr. Condy said he would bear, Ellen should be offered a permanent home.

The funeral took place on Monday, and was attended by Mr. Condy’s family.  On the next day Mrs. Condy called on Ellen, and invited her to come home with her, and to remain there.  The offer was thankfully accepted.

During the day, and while Ellen, assisted by Jane and Mary, was at work on black dresses for the younger children, Mr. and Mrs. Condy came into the room:  the latter had a piece of bombazine in her hand.