CHAPTER VIII.
THE PEACEFUL DEATH.
N three days Sallie was out of danger, and from this time she recovered rapidly. The minister and her Sabbath school teacher visited her often, but she wondered Hatty did not come. At last, one day when she was able to sit up, her mother told her Hatty had taken the fever the day she visited her, and now she was very sick.
"Who will take care of her?" asked Sallie, beginning to cry.
"They sent for her aunt, who has never been near them since their mother died, and she's there now. She has money, and she says the poor child shall not want for anything that money will buy."
"Oh, mother! to think that I have killed her! I feel almost sure she will die. She's so good, I used to tell the girls, she ought to go to heaven; but it is dreadful that I killed her."
Sallie sobbed so violently that her mother became alarmed; but for some time she tried in vain to soothe her.
"They'll all blame me. I never shall dare to see uncle Oliver or Esther again. They can't live without her. Oh, oh dear! I wish she never had come. Mother, do please go over there quick, and tell them how very sorry I am. Hatty taught me to love the Saviour, and how can I let her die?"
To please her child the widow went. Hatty lay in the bedroom adjoining the sitting-room, which was usually occupied by uncle Oliver. Close by her side sat Esther, looking pale and wan as if months instead of hours of racking anxiety had passed over her. Mrs. Foster was preparing some medicine near the window, while the old man, with a heart almost broken with sorrow, was cutting up wood at the side of the house farthest from the chamber.