'Aunt Milly, why did you show me this? and Richard's eyes, full of reproachful pain, fixed themselves somewhat sternly on her face. 'Because I want you to understand. Look, there is another on the next leaf; see, she has called it "A little while" and "for ever." My poor girl, every word is so true of her own earnest nature.' '"For ever," they are fading, Our beautiful, our bright; They gladden us "a little while," Then pass away from sight; "A little while" we're parted From those who love us best, Who gain the goal before us And enter into rest. 'Our path grows very lonely, And still those words beguile, And cheer our footsteps onward; 'Tis but a little while. 'A little while earth's sorrow,-- Its burdens and its care, Its struggles 'neath the crosses, Which we of earth must bear. 'There's time to do and suffer-- To work our Master's will, But not for vain regretting For thoughts or deeds of ill. Too short to spend in weeping O'er broken hopes and flowers, For wandering and wasting, Is this strange life of ours. 'Though, when our cares oppress us, Earth's "little while" seems long, If we would win the battle We must be brave and strong. And so with humble spirit, But highest hopes and aim, The goal so often longed for We may perhaps attain. '"For ever" and "for ever" To dwell among the blest, Where sorrows never trouble The deep eternal rest; When one by one we gather Beneath our Father's smile, And Heaven's sweet "for ever" Drowns earth's sad "little while."'[2] 'Well, Richard?' [Footnote 2: H. M. B.] But there was no answer; only the buzzing of insects in giddy circles broke the silence, mingled with the far-off twitter of birds. Only when Mildred again looked up, the paper had fluttered to their feet, and Richard had covered his face with his shaking hands. 'Dear Cardie, forgive me; I did not mean to pain you like this.' 'Aunt Milly,' in a voice so hoarse and changed that Mildred quite started, 'if she die, if Olive die, I shall never know a moment's peace again;' and the groan that accompanied the words wrung Mildred's tender heart with compassion. 'God forbid we should lose her, Richard,' she returned, gently. 'Do not try to deceive me,' he returned, bitterly, in the same low, husky tones. 'I heard what he said--what you both said--that it could not go on much longer; and I saw his face when he thought he was alone. There is no hope--none.' 'Oh, Richard, hush,' replied Mildred, in uncontrollable agitation; 'while there is life, there is hope. Think of David, "While the child was yet alive I fasted and wept;" he could not tell whether God meant to be gracious to him or not. We will pray, you and I, that our girl may be spared.' But Richard recoiled in positive horror.