"What's a-matter, Bob? Ain't mother well? She wants her breakfast, I think," said Milly.
Bob tried to choke back his tears for the sake of the child. "Mother won't want any more breakfasts, Milly," he said; "she's gone to heaven—gone to see Jesus!"
The little girl sat down, her hands clasped in her lap. "She's gone to be an angel, then, instead of me?" she said.
"No, not instead of you, Milly. You've been an angel to us here, I'm sure, and so you will be!" But there he stopped.
What would become of the child now his mother had gone? She was far too young to be left in the cottage alone while they were away at work, even if they could have attended to her wants while they were at home.
But he could not stay to think of this now; he had to hurry away to bring their neighbor from the village. And while he was gone, Jack dressed Milly, and did what he could to put the house in order.
A doctor came with the woman and Bob, but it was useless to try to restore animation. She must have been dead some hours, he said; he thought it probable that she had passed away in her sleep, so calm and peaceful did she look in her death-slumber.
What was to become of Milly, was of course the first question that presented itself to the mind of Mrs. Ship. She offered the boys a home with her, but she could not take Milly, she said. And so it was resolved that Bob should take her up to Dr. Mansfield's to ask the advice of the housekeeper on the subject.
Mrs. Ship thought it would be best to do this without delay, and urged Bob to do it at once. But the boy had a sad foreboding that poor Milly would be sent to the workhouse, and wanted to postpone it until after the funeral.
"You won't forget what mother told you about being meek and gentle, and loving Jesus?" said Bob, as he slowly led the little girl towards the doctor's house.