Looking at her mother, I said, “What a mercy to have a child so near heaven as yours is!”
“And what a mercy,” she replied, in broken accents, “if her poor old mother might but follow her there! But, sir, it is so hard to part!”
“I hope through grace by faith you will soon meet to part no more; it will be but a little while.”
“Sir,” said the Dairyman, “that thought supports me, and the Lord’s goodness makes me feel more reconciled than I was.”
“Father—mother,” said the reviving daughter, “He is good to me—trust Him, praise Him evermore.”
“Sir,” added she, in a faint voice, “I want to thank you for your kindness to me—I want to ask a favour;—you buried my sister—will you do the same for me?”
“All shall be as you wish, if God permit,” I replied.
“Thank you, sir, thank you—I have another favour to ask—When I am gone, remember my father and mother.
They are old, but I hope the good work is begun in their souls—My prayers are heard—Pray come and see them—I cannot speak much, but I want to speak for their sakes—Sir, remember them.”
The aged parents now sighed and sobbed aloud, uttering broken sentences, and gained some relief by such an expression of their feelings.