"How is little Patty this morning, Mrs. Sticht? I've brought her the doll. Can I see her?" were Stella's rapid questions.
"Yes, Miss Stella, you can see her. Walk in, please."
There was anguish and reproof in the mother's tone; Stella stepped inside the poorly furnished room; the mother led the way to one corner, and pointed to a little white-draped cot.
The terrible truth dawned upon Stella. She had come too late. Patty was dead. She burst into tears as the sobbing, broken-hearted mother uncovered the little still face. Through her tears Stella could see how beautiful Patty was, with her golden hair brushed back from a pretty forehead, and her dear little hands clasped over her still bosom.
"And did you tell her I would bring the doll? Did she look for it?" Stella moaned, her remorseful tears rolling down her cheeks like rain.
"'Look for it!' Yes, Miss Stella, she looked for it day and night," Mrs. Sticht answered huskily. "She was very light-headed toward the last; she talked of nothin' else. Just before she died her reason returned. She sat up in bed, an' put her arms around my neck an' said, 'Good-by, mamma; I'm goin' to heaven.' I cried aloud, but Patty smoothed my cheek, and said, 'Don't cry, mamma, you'll come by and by, an' I'll be waitin' and lovin' my blue-eyed dolly, 'cause I know Jesus will give me one, 'cause there's no tears in heaven.'"
[GRANDMOTHER'S DARLINGS.]
"TO-MORROW will be grandma's eightieth birthday," said one of the children, "and we must make her just as happy as can be."
"What shall we do?" said another.
"Send her a long letter—four pages of foolscap—and a nice present," answered the first.