But the next morning, just as the sun arose above the opposite heights of Brudenell, flooding all the cloudless heavens and the snow-clad earth with light and glory, a new life also arose in that humble hut upon the hill.
Hannah Worth held a new-born infant boy in her arms, and her tears fell fast upon his face like a baptism of sorrow.
The miserable young mother lay back upon her pillow—death impressed upon the sunken features, the ashen complexion, and the fixed eyes.
"Oh, what a blessing if this child could die!" cried Hannah, in a piercing voice that reached even the failing senses of the dying girl.
There was an instant change. It was like the sudden flaring up of an expiring light. Down came the stony eyes, melting with tenderness and kindling with light. All the features were softened and illumined.
Those who have watched the dying are familiar with these sudden re-kindlings of life. She spoke in tones of infinite sweetness:
"Oh, do not say so, Hannah! Do not grudge the poor little thing his life! Everything else has been taken from him, Hannah!—father, mother, name, inheritance, and all! Leave him his little life: it has been dearly purchased! Hold him down to me, Hannah; I will give him one kiss, if no one ever kisses him again."
"Nora, my poor darling, you know that I will love your boy, and work for him, and take care of him, if he lives; only I thought it was better if it pleased God that he should go home to the Saviour," said Hannah, as she held the infant down to receive his mother's kiss.
"God love you, poor, poor baby!" said Nora, putting up her feeble hands, and bringing the little face close to her lips. "He will live, Hannah! Oh, I prayed all through the dreadful night that he might live, and the Lord has answered my prayer," she added, as she resigned the child once more to her sister's care.