Ellen's tears fell fast as she listened to these words, and she was much touched by learning how kindly Mary had thought of her, and the message she had sent her.
The news of Mary's death, following the thoughts which had alarmed her on the previous night, produced a solemn impression. Had she been suddenly called to face death, she could not, like Mary, have met it calmly and joyfully. But now, through faith in Him who has conquered the "last enemy," for her also, death had lost its sting, and she could look forward without fear to whatever the future might bring.
Encouraged by her teacher's kind manner, Ellen told her of the distress of mind she had experienced, and how the sacred words recalled by memory had pointed her to the Saviour. Miss Graham's heart rejoiced as she listened, and the sympathy and encouragement she expressed in the conversation which ensued, strengthened the young believer's faith and joy. Ellen felt very thankful when she was assured that her life was in no danger from the injuries she had received, but that in a week or two she would be in all probability quite well again, and looked forward with hope to a life of usefulness and happiness in the service of Christ.
[CHAPTER XII.]
SORROWFUL TIDINGS.
IN the morning following Ellen's first day in the hospital, the sun was shining brightly on her home, although the fields about it lay bare and hard, sparkling with hoar-frost. A bright fire was burning on the kitchen hearth, and Mrs. Mansfield, with her sleeves turned up to her elbows, and wearing a holland apron, was engaged in kneading the dough for the week's batch of bread.
Lucy's voice was heard in the room above, singing blithely as she went about her domestic tasks; the baby was crawling on the rug which lay in front of the fire, taking evident pride in his sturdy limbs, as he sprawled about and crowed with delight.
And in a large arm-chair beside the glowing hearth sat Jerry, no longer confined to his room, but able to join the family circle, though still weak and ailing. As he sat patiently teaching his little brothers, Johnny and Willy, to read from the sacred volume which lay open on his knee, his face wore a more hopeful look than when we last saw him, and seemed to promise the return of health.
"Oh, here comes the postman!" exclaimed their mother, looking up as she heard the gate swing on its hinges. "He's bringing us a letter from Ellen, no doubt. Run, Johnny, and take it from him."
Johnny needed no second bidding, but hastened to the door, and quickly returned with a letter for his mother.