Irene had been too much accustomed to changes to be much affected by this change, and as soon as her head touched the pillow, she was asleep. But Dorothy tossed and fidgeted, and besought Ingleby not to leave her, and persisted in holding her hand in hers, though her nurse sorely wanted rest herself, and to get all things forward for the early start the next morning.

At last Ingleby disengaged her hand from Dorothy's clinging clasp, and went downstairs to cater for some supper. But her disappearance soon roused Dorothy; she began to cry and call, "Jingle! Jingle!" This woke Irene, who jumped out of her own bed in the next room, and coming to her, said, "What do you want?"

"I don't want you," was the somewhat ungracious reply. "I want Jingle or mother."

"Are you ill? have you a pain anywhere?" asked practical Irene.

"No, but I want Jingle. Oh dear, dear!"

"If nothing is the matter, I think you ought to go to sleep, and not cry; it may frighten your mamma."

"It is so horrid here," said poor little Dorothy; "and I wonder how Puff and Muff are; and I want Nino. Why did Jingle take him away? Oh dear, dear! and there's such a buzzing noise in the street, and rumble, rumble; oh dear!"

"Do you ever try saying hymns to get yourself to sleep?" Irene asked. "If you like I'll repeat one, and then you can say it over when I get back to my own bed."

Dorothy turned her face away on the pillow, and was not very encouraging; but Irene repeated this beautiful evening hymn for a child, which I hope all the little girls and boys who read my story know with their hearts as well as their heads:—

"On the dark hill's western side,
The last purple gleam has died;
Twilight to one solemn hue
Changes all, both green and blue.
"In the fold, and in the nest,
Birds and lambs have gone to rest;
Labour's weary task is o'er,
Closely shut the cottage door.
"Saviour, ere in sweet repose
I my weary eyelids close,
While my mother through the gloom
Singeth from the outer room,
"While across the curtain white,
With a dim uncertain light,
On the floor the faint stars shine,
Let my latest thought be Thine.
"'Twas a starry night of old
When rejoicing angels told
The poor shepherds of Thy birth,
God became a Child on earth.
"Soft and quiet is the bed
Where I lay my little head;
Thou hadst but a manger bare,
Rugged straw for pillow fair.
"Saviour, 'twas to win me grace
Thou didst stoop to this poor place,
Loving with a perfect love
Child and man and God above.
"Thou wast meek and undefiled:
Make me gentle, too, and mild;
Thou didst foil the tempter's power:
Help me in temptation's hour.
"Thou didst love Thy mother here,
Make me gentle, kind, and dear;
Thou didst mind her slightest word,
Teach me to obey, O Lord.
"Happy now, I turn to sleep;
Thou wilt watch around me keep;
Him no danger e'er can harm
Who lies cradled in Thy arm."