Mrs. Fairland, who though indolent and indifferent in many things with regard to her children, was not altogether without natural affection, passed much of her time, during the last two or three days of Tiney’s life, in her room, sitting quietly near the head of the bed. Mr. Fairland, who seemed more overcome even than Agnes expected, hardly ever left the bed-side. The older sisters looked in occasionally for a few moments, but their “nerves” (always ready as an excuse with people destitute of feeling) would not allow their staying for more than five minutes at a time, in the room of the sick child. The younger children wandered restlessly about the house, their little hearts oppressed by the first approach of death among their number; sometimes coming in quietly to look at the dying sister, and then wandering off again. “Cousin Agnes, _must_ I _die_?” asked Tiney, the day before her death, as Agnes and her father and mother were sitting near her. “You are not afraid to die, dear Tiney, are you?” asked Agnes in reply. “No, I shall love to die, because you told me I would never be sick any more; but I feel a _little_ afraid to go to Heaven.” “Afraid to go to Heaven, dear Tiney! And why should you be afraid to go there?” asked Agnes, in astonishment; for she had, oftener than ever, of late, talked to the failing child of the glories of heaven, and did not doubt that, even with her poor weak mind, she had so trusted by faith in the merits of an all-sufficient Redeemer, that through those merits her spirit would be welcomed to that blissful abode. “I was thinking,” answered Tiney, “that I don’t _know anybody_, there; not a single soul; and I feel so shy with strangers. Will they love me there, cousin Agnes, as you and papa do?” Agnes could not repress the tears at this question, so natural, perhaps, to a simple child, and yet one which she had never thought of as likely to occur to one before. But she talked to Tiney so soothingly and sweetly of Him who loved little children when on earth, and who was watching for her now, and would send some lovely angel to bear her to His breast, that poor Tiney lost her fears, and longed for the hour of her release. And it came the next morning. Just as the glorious sun was rising over the lake, the spirit of poor little suffering Tiney left its earthly dwelling, and began its long and never-ending day of happiness.