She grew calmer. "Don't be alarmed about me, dear Edward, dear papa," she said in her low sweet tones. "I don't think I am ill; and heavy as our loss is, dearest husband, how we must rejoice for her. Let me go and perform the last office of love for her--our precious mother; I am better; I am able." "No, no, you are not; you must not," both answered in a breath. "Aunt Dinah and Aunt Chloe will do it all tenderly and lovingly as if she had been of their own flesh and blood," added Mr. Travilla, in trembling tones. CHAPTER TWENTIETH. "There are smiles and tears in the mother's eyes For her new-born babe beside her lies; Oh, heaven of bliss! when the heart o'erflows With the rapture a _mother_ only knows!" --HENRY WARE, JR. Mrs. Travilla was laid to rest in their own family burial-ground, her dust sleeping beside that of her husband, and children who had died in infancy; and daily her surviving son carried his little daughter thither to scatter flowers upon "dear grandma's grave." It was not easy to learn to live without the dear mother; they missed her constantly. Yet was their sorrow nearly swallowed up in joy for her--the blessed dead who had departed to be with Christ in glory and to go no more out forever from that blissful presence. Their house was not made dark and gloomy, the sunlight and sweet spring air entered freely as of yore. Nor did they suffer gloom to gather in their hearts or cloud their faces. Each was filled with thankfulness for the spared life of the other, and of their darling little daughter. And scarce a week had passed away since heaven's portals opened wide to the ransomed soul, when a new voice--that of a son and heir--was heard in the old home, and many hearts rejoiced in the birth of the beautiful boy. "God has sent him to comfort you in your sorrow, dearest," Elsie whispered, as her husband brought the babe--fresh from its first robing by Aunt Chloe's careful hands--and with a very proud and happy face laid it in her arms. "Yes," he said, in moved tones. "Oh, that men would praise the Lord for His goodness, and for His wonderful works to the children of men!" "If mother could only have seen him!" And tears gathered in the soft, sweet eyes of the young mother gazing so tenderly upon the tiny face on her arm. "She will, one day, I trust; I have been asking for this new darling that he may be an heir of glory: that he may early be gathered into the fold of the good Shepherd." "And I, too," she said, "have besought my precious Saviour to be the God of my children also from their birth." "What do you intend to call your son?" "What do you?" she asked, smiling up at him. "Horace, for your father, if you like." "And I had thought of Edward, for his father and yours. Horace Edward. Will that do?" "I am satisfied, if you are. But Edward would do for the next." "But he may never come to claim it," she said, laughing. "Is papa in the house?"