"Yes; and let me tell you how I was comforted. I fear I was not quite submissive at first; but a dear old mother in Israel, who had several times passed through the same deep waters, came to me and said 'My dear, the Lord gave you quite a little flock and when He comes and asks you to return him one, and you know He will keep it so safely in his kind arms and on his tender bosom, will you refuse? can you not spare Him one?' "Then my heart was almost broken to think I had been so churlish toward my beloved Master and I resigned her cheerfully into His care, and by and by grew happy in thinking of her, so safe from all sin and sorrow and pain, so full of joy, at His right hand; and of the time when my work shall be done and I shall go to her." Mrs. Chetwood thought for a moment, then turning to her friend with eyes brimful of tears, "Thank you," she said, "your words have done me good. Surely I too, can spare Him one. Had He taken all, what right could I have to complain? and oh, how sweet is the thought that He is caring so tenderly for my precious lambkin!" The mothers mingled their tears again for a little, tears of blended grief and joy; then Mrs. Chetwood said "What else dear friend? I seem to read in your eyes that you have something more to say to me." "Only this, suggested to me by the same old Christian soldier and confirmed by my own experience; that efforts to comfort others react upon ourselves, so proving the best panacea for our own sorrow." "I believe it, am conscience-smitten that I have been so selfishly wrapped up in my own grief, and shall set about the work at once. Will you do me the favor to suggest where I shall begin?" Mrs. Keith spoke of Gotobed and the sort of comfort and assistance of which he stood in need. Mrs. Chetwood shuddered. "Poor, poor fellow!" she said; "my heart aches for him. I feel sick at the very thought of seeing any one in that mutilated condition, but I will go to him and do what I can for his comfort and relief." "Thank you," returned Mrs. Keith heartily "And speak comfortingly to the poor mother. She is grieving very much for him, and does not look well. One of the little girls, too, is quite ill with intermittent fever." It was well that Mrs. Keith had engaged her friend to take up the labor of love, for it was long before she herself could resume it. On reaching home she found Mildred sitting with Annis in her arms, the little creature moaning with pain and in a high fever. "Mother, she is very sick," whispered Mildred tremulously, her eyes full of tears; for she was thinking of how suddenly Mary Chetwood had been snatched away by the grim destroyer Death. "I fear she is, poor darling! poor little pet!" the mother said, bending over her and softly pressing her lips to the burning cheek. "O mother, mother, if we should lose her!"