"It is because he loves you. Do not look at it as punishment, but as discipline; as the cutting and carving which are necessary to bring out the beautiful statue from the shapeless block of marble, or to change the diamond in the rough to the brilliant sparkling gem. "As to the idea that the Christian bears any part of the penalty of his sins--atoning for them by his own suffering, or his works, or in any other way, either in this life or the next,--it is totally unscriptural. 'For Christ is the end of the law for righteousness to every one that believeth.'" "O, thank you, so much, so very much!" she exclaimed, looking up gratefully. "What wonderful love His was, and who would not be willing to bear any suffering to be made like unto Him?" "That is unquestionably a Christian spirit," said Mrs. Keith; "none but those who have felt the burden of sin and learned to hunger and thirst after righteousness know that ardent desire for conformity to His image." "You make my heart glad!" cried the girl. "Damaris just told me there was no Christian spirit about me; and I'm often afraid there isn't; yet I do love Jesus and desire His love more than anything else. I want to do and suffer all His holy will!" Little Mary Chetwood, a sweet child of six, was the only daughter except Claudina, and coming after some half dozen boys, naturally became, from the first, a great pet and darling, made much of by parents, sister and brothers. Yet she was not a spoiled child; she had been taught obedience, religiously trained, and not indulged to her hurt. Love and wise indulgence do no harm, but quite the contrary; while harshness, a dearth of affection, and undue severity have ruined many a one for time and eternity. Mrs. Keith found the Chetwoods a distressed household; for though the little girl had been but two days ill, such was the violence of the attack that it was already apparent that there was small hope of recovery. "This is kind," whispered Mrs. Chetwood, pressing her friend's hand, while tears coursed down her cheeks. "The darling won't be tended by any body but mother, father or sister, but your very presence is a comfort." "I should have been here sooner, but did not know of her illness till this afternoon," Mrs. Keith responded in the same subdued key. "If I can be of any use, I will take off my bonnet and stay; it is perfectly convenient." The offer was gratefully accepted, a note dispatched to Mildred, entrusting the children at home to her care till such time as her mother could be of no more service at the squire's, and Mrs. Keith's gentle ministries in the sick room began. Her quiet movements, her thoughtfulness, quick comprehension and fertility of resource, made her invaluable at such a time. The end came sooner than was expected; day was just breaking when, with her head on the bosom of her who gave her birth, the little one gently breathed her last.