The day was beautiful; the winter sun shone with all the warmth and power of which he was capable, for not a cloud was to be seen. The leafless branches of the trees were covered with the light feathery snow which had fallen during the night, and a white world was all around them. Blanche's eyes sparkled with joy as they wandered from object to object in the snowy scene before them, and for a while she walked by Miss Woodville's side in silence. Soon, however, her thoughts came back from the bright things around them to herself. "Who am I going to see, Miss Woodville?" she asked. "A little girl called Milly Everard; she has been very ill for a long time." "Has she a mother?" "Yes, and a father too, and very fond they both are of her, for she is the only child they have living; they buried two not long ago." "And Milly is ill?" "Yes, dear; so ill that there is no chance of her ever being well again." "How sorry her father and mother must be !" "They are; but they know, Blanche, that their little girl is in safe keeping, that not one drop too much will be added to her cup of suffering, and this sustains them through all. But here we are." Mrs. Everard opened her cottage door, as Miss Woodville and her little companion drew up. "How is Milly to-day, Mrs. Everard ?" asked the former. "Oh, Miss Woodville, she's no better, nor ever will be, I'm thinking. She's in bed today, and will be very glad to see you, Miss; she's been wishing you would come." "I have brought little Blanche Cleveland to see her, Mrs. Everard; I told her I should some day." "She'll be very glad to see Miss Blanche, I'm sure. But come in, Miss Woodville, and I'll see if Milly's awake." Miss Woodville and Blanche entered the little kitchen, and Mrs. Everard went into the next room. She soon returned, however, and reported that Milly was asleep. "Is she worse than she was the other day when I was here, Mrs. Everard ?" asked Miss Woodville. "No, I don't know that she is, maʼam, but she's wearing away; she said last night she didn't think she should see another Christmasday, and I fear she's right," and Mrs. Everard wiped away a tear with the corner of her apron. "But you have a rich consolation amidst it all, Mrs. Everard; Milly may be taken first to our home above, but you know that you will rejoin her ere long." "Yes, Miss Woodville, it is a comfort to think that; if we thought we should never see her again, our hearts would break quite; but after all, it's very hard to see her suffering as she does sometimes, with that cough of hers; it goes through and through me every time I hear it; if she suffered less I could bear it better." H |