Releasing the little child, and unclasping the dying hand, Eliza rose and said:
"Now, Leah, I'll send for your father."
"Well. Be quick!" and as a seraphic smile overspread her face, she added, "Leave me alone till he comes, Lizzie, but be quick. I would see him now, now; all is light, light, light! Joy, love, peace-at last."
An hour later, Mr. Mordecai-in answer to a message saying that his daughter was dying at the Bellevue Home, and wished to see him-came tottering into the hall-way, his face expressive of the deepest sorrow; his head had grown venerable and gray, his form was bent beneath a weight of grief that might have crushed a heart of stone. Not a word was spoken, as he silently took the hand of Mrs. Marshall, who met him at the threshold, and led the way to Leah's chamber. The expression of his face told the anguish of his heart. Noiselessly entering the room, they found that the little child had fallen asleep on the foot of its mother's bed, exhausted with weeping. The coverlet was drawn carelessly over Leah's face, concealing her features. Softly approaching her, Lizzie tremblingly turned the coverlet back. Alas! she was dead.
On the bosom of the dead, as she was being prepared for burial, was found the miniature of her mother, the birth-day gift of years ago. The jewels were gone. One by one they had been removed from their places, to answer the imperative demands of hunger and want. But the face, the beloved face of the mother, had ever been pressed to the heart of the unhappy daughter. And now, it was not to be removed, even by death itself; for the agonized father, beholding the evidence of Leah's devotion, said, "As she kept it in life, so shall she keep it in death. Place it again on her bosom. Thank God, I shall soon sleep beside her in the quiet burying-ground of my people; and may the eternal God forgive my sin toward her."
THE END.
End of Project Gutenberg's Leah Mordecai, by Mrs. Belle Kendrick Abbott