"We shall see him again. Think of that."
"You will," said Mrs. Rossitur very sadly.
"And so will you, dear aunt Lucy,--dear aunt Lucy--you promised him?"
"Yes--" sobbed Mrs. Rossitur,--"I promised him--but I am such a poor creature--"
"So poor that Jesus cannot save you?--or will not?--No, dear aunt Lucy--you do not think that;--only trust him--you do trust him now, do you not?"
A fresh gush of tears came with the answer, but it was in the affirmative; and after a few minutes Mrs. Rossitur grew more quiet.
"I wish something were done to this," she said, looking at the fresh earth beside her;--"if we could have planted something--"
"I have thought of it a thousand times," said Fleda sighing;--I would have done it long ago if I could have got here;--but it doesn't matter, aunt Lucy,--I wish I could have done it."
"You?" said Mrs. Rossitur;--"my poor child! you have been wearing yourself out working for me,--I never was worth anything!"--she said, hiding her face again.
"When you have been the dearest and best mother to me? Now that is not right, aunt Lucy--look up and kiss me."