Wearily sped the hours of the night as the travellers drove along. With a sickening heart, Nora watched the sun rise over the distant hills, wondering all the while whether the spirit of the little child she loved so well had already entered the land "that needeth not the sun;" and in the coach, with strangers around her, Nora prayed as she had never done before—prayed for the life of her little cousin—prayed a very earnest prayer for herself, that God would answer her in these prayers for Christ's sake, and make her truly his child, even as little Minnie was.
It was midnight of the following day before they reached Benvourd, to find Mr. Macleod awaiting them, with the strange, sad light on his countenance that one sometimes sees on the faces of those who have stood by the death-bed of dying Christians, whether that of an aged saint or a little lamb of the Good Shepherd's flock.
"Thank God you have come!" he said, as he folded Nora in his arms. Hushing as best he could the girl's burst of heart-felt grief, as he gently whispered the words, "Jesus has taken our little daughter to his heavenly fold; she was glad to go, Nora, she loved him so. Hush, my darling—compose yourself—it is well with her; the loss is ours. You are greatly needed here, my child."
He had half carried her into the parlour, and laid her down on the sofa. Quietly he stood by for a few minutes, with bent head and lowered eyes, letting her give vent to the tears which come so easily from hearts in their first sorrow, and which bring such blessed relief.
Mr. Ross stood by much touched; there was something in the quiet, resigned, though sorely-stricken look on the father's face that made him wonder.
"Thank you for bringing her," had been the courteous greeting he had received; but now, in this sacred sorrow, he felt almost an intruder.
"She must be terribly exhausted," he said, as Nora lay almost stifled with sobbing; "she has hardly tasted food to-day."
Her uncle bent over her lovingly. "My Nora," he said, "be brave; help us to say, 'Thy will be done.' Your poor aunt will need all your help. There have been two angels here this evening, darling—one of death and one of life. One hour after our darling fell asleep in Jesus, God sent us another little daughter to comfort us."
In a moment Nora was on her feet. "O uncle, take me to aunt; I will be brave, indeed I will, God helping me," she added.
And amid all his sorrow, these words sent a thrill of joy through Mr. Macleod's heart, for hitherto Nora had seemed to feel that she could do all things in her own strength; but in the bitter hours of sorrow, and self-reproach, and self-examination through which she had passed that day, she had been brought to see her own weakness as never before.