"Yes, dear, she can," was the weeping rejoinder. "She finds Jesus nearer and dearer than her mother, and how can I thank Him enough that it is so?"
"We have sent for Cyril," Mr. Keith said, addressing Don, and handing him a letter. "He hopes to be with us to-morrow. She could not go without seeing him once more."
A little later Don, left alone with Mildred, asked, "O Milly, is there no hope? no possibility of a favorable change?"
"None so far as man can see," she answered through her tears and sobs. "But with God all things are possible."
"I've been talking with her," he said presently, when he could control his emotion sufficiently to speak; "she told me herself that—that she was—going away. And she seemed so happy, so utterly without fear, that I could hardly believe it was our timid little Fan—always shrinking so from going among strangers."
"Yes," said Mildred, "what a triumph of faith! Her fearlessness is not from any lack of a deep sense of sin, but because she is trusting in the imputed righteousness of Christ. She trusts Him fully, and so her peace is like a river. It continually brings to my mind that sweet text in Isaiah, 'And the work of righteousness shall be peace; and the effect of righteousness quietness and assurance forever.'"
And so it was to the very end; the sweet young Christian passed away so calmly and peacefully that her loved ones watching beside her bed scarce could tell the precise moment when her spirit took its flight.
There was no gloom in the death-bed scene, and there seemed little about the grave as they laid her body tenderly down there to rest till the resurrection morn, knowing that the spirit was even then rejoicing in the presence and love of her Redeemer.
