“Come in, Alanna,” was the invariable response.
Oh! the comfort of snuggling against her!
Whether she promptly fell asleep again, or whether she watched and talked loving nonsense one felt equally safe, equally blessedly happy. If she slept, it was lightly enough, like all old people; and each time she turned or moved in the bed, the small bed-fellow would hear her murmur:
“The Lord have mercy on me!”
It was not a deliberate prayer, scarcely even a conscious thought, but the natural movement of the soul.
Little wonder that, being what she was, she who had lain down every night, as it were, in the very arms of Providence, should pass to her last sleep as simply and fearlessly.
“Are you frightened, mother?” cried her daughter, bending over her at the very end. She opened her eyes and smiled.
“Frightened? How could I be frightened? Am I not going to my best friend?”