“That poor little thing! I hope with all my soul there is a heaven where the lost youth is made up to these wronged little ones. She has been doing a woman’s work on a child’s strength.”
“O can nothing save her?” cried Virginia Deering, with longing desire. “For her life might be so happy. She has found friends—”
“It all comes too late. If you should ever be tempted to reason away heaven, think of her and hundreds like her, and what else shall make amends? I will be in again this afternoon,” and he turned away abruptly.
He met Miss Mary in the lower hall, and left her amazed at the intelligence. She came up-stairs and found Virginia with her eyes full of tears.
“And I thought last night she looked so improved. It is so sudden, so unexpected.”
“How long?” asked Virginia, with a great tremble in her voice.
“Any time, my dear. A day or two, an hour may be. We must keep it from the children. So many have improved, and no one has died. I can’t believe it.”
“I want to stay with her,” the girl said in a low tone.
“We shall be so grateful to you. You young girls are so good to give up your own pleasures, and help us in our work.”
Virginia went back quietly. Dil’s face was turned toward the window, and she was listening to the children’s voices, as they ran around tumultuously.