Earnestly and affectionately did she commend each to the care of their Heavenly Father, making special mention of little Milly, that, if spared, she might be a blessing and a help to many. And then, with an affectionate farewell, she bade each go to bed.
All thought of what he had heard concerning his mother's illness had passed from Jack's mind, and his last thought before going to sleep was of the pleasant, happy evening they had spent, and his dreams were of a happy home-circle, in which his father's place was not empty.
He was aroused the next morning by Milly laying her little hand on his face. The circumstance did not alarm him, for the child usually awoke early, and often came to call them.
But when she said, "Wake up, Jack, and light the fire, mother's so cold," an instant fear seized the boy's heart.
Springing out of bed, he ran into the adjoining room, and one glance at the little bed confirmed his worst fears. He did not scream or cry out, but a groan of anguish burst from his heart; and Bob, whom Milly had likewise awakened, came hurrying in after him.
"What is it? Is mother ill?" he asked, as he saw his brother throw the sheet over her face.
Jack shook his head. "Make haste and get your things on, and run down for Mrs. Ship," he said.
Bob looked from his brother to the bed. "Is it too late to fetch the doctor?" he asked.
Jack nodded. "Don't let Milly come in here," he said, as the little girl was about to clamber up on the bed again.
Bob took her in his arms and went back to their little sleeping-room. But then all his firmness gave way, and throwing himself on the bed, he burst into an irrepressible wail of anguish.