The first faint streak of dawn was beginning in the eastern sky when the doctor, who had been bending over her for several minutes, suddenly laid his finger on her pulse for an instant; then turned to his fellow-watchers with a look that there was no mistaking.
There was weeping and wailing then in that room, where death-like stillness had reigned so long.
"Precious, precious child! dear lamb safely gathered into the Saviour's fold," said Mrs. Travilla in quivering tones, as she gently laid her hand upon the closed eyes, and straightened the limbs as tenderly as though it had been a living, breathing form.
"Oh, Elsie! Elsie! dear, dear little Elsie!" cried Adelaide, flinging herself upon the bed, and pressing her lips to the cold cheek. "I have only just learned to know your value, and now you are taken from me. Oh! Elsie, darling, precious one; oh! that I had sooner learned your worth! that I had done more to make your short life happy!"
Chloe was sobbing at the foot of the bed, "Oh! my child! my child! Oh! now dis ole heart will break for sure!" while the kind-hearted physician stood wiping his eyes and sighing deeply.
"Her poor father!" exclaimed Mrs. Travilla at length.
"Yes, yes, I will go to him," said Adelaide quickly. "I promised to call him the moment she waked, and now—oh, now, I must tell him she will never wake again."
"No!" replied Mrs. Travilla, "rather tell him that she has waked in heaven, and is even now singing the song of the redeemed."
Adelaide turned to Elsie's writing-desk, and taking from it the packet which the child had directed to be given to her father as soon as she was gone, she carried it to him.
Her low knock was instantly followed by the opening of the door, for he had been awaiting her coming in torturing suspense.