Mrs. Chetwood thought for a moment, then turning to her friend with eyes brimful of tears, "Thank you," she said, "your words have done me good. Surely I too, can spare Him one. Had He taken all, what right could I have to complain? and oh, how sweet is the thought that He is caring so tenderly for my precious lambkin!"
The mothers mingled their tears again for a little, tears of blended grief and joy; then Mrs. Chetwood said "What else dear friend? I seem to read in your eyes that you have something more to say to me."
"Only this, suggested to me by the same old Christian soldier and confirmed by my own experience; that efforts to comfort others react upon ourselves, so proving the best panacea for our own sorrow."
"I believe it, am conscience-smitten that I have been so selfishly wrapped up in my own grief, and shall set about the work at once. Will you do me the favor to suggest where I shall begin?"
Mrs. Keith spoke of Gotobed and the sort of comfort and assistance of which he stood in need.
Mrs. Chetwood shuddered. "Poor, poor fellow!" she said; "my heart aches for him. I feel sick at the very thought of seeing any one in that mutilated condition, but I will go to him and do what I can for his comfort and relief."
"Thank you," returned Mrs. Keith heartily "And speak comfortingly to the poor mother. She is grieving very much for him, and does not look well. One of the little girls, too, is quite ill with intermittent fever."
It was well that Mrs. Keith had engaged her friend to take up the labor of love, for it was long before she herself could resume it. On reaching home she found Mildred sitting with Annis in her arms, the little creature moaning with pain and in a high fever.
"Mother, she is very sick," whispered Mildred tremulously, her eyes full of tears; for she was thinking of how suddenly Mary Chetwood had been snatched away by the grim destroyer Death.
"I fear she is, poor darling! poor little pet!" the mother said, bending over her and softly pressing her lips to the burning cheek.