The sentence being passed, she had no room in her heart for any other feeling than pity for her dying sister. In the sunrise, when the sweet air was infusing strength into fresh young life, the end came. Mrs. Farebrother whispered to her sister that she wished to speak to her husband alone. Thoroughly awed, he sat by her side. She made no reference to the past; she uttered no reproaches. She spoke only of their child, and begged him to be good to her. He promised all that she asked of him. "You will get some good woman into the house to take care of her?" she said. "Yes; I promise." "And my sister must see her whenever she wishes to do so." "Yes." "And when our dear one is old enough and strong enough you will let her go to my sister, and stop with her a little now and then? It will do her good to mix with children of her own age." "Yes; I promise." "As you deal by her, so will you be dealt by. May Heaven prosper you in all worthy undertakings! Kiss me. Let there be peace and forgiveness between us." He kissed her, and sat a little apart while she and her sister, their cheeks nestling, exchanged their last words. "Look after my treasure," whispered the mother. "I will, dear, as tenderly and carefully as if she were one of my own." "You must come here and see her sometimes; he has promised that you may; and when she grows up you will let her come to you?" "She will always be lovingly welcome. My home is hers if she should ever need one." "God bless you! May your life be prosperous and ever happy!" Before noon she drew her last breath, and Parksides was without a mistress. CHAPTER IV. PHOEBE AND THE ANGELS. It did not long remain so. In less than a fort-night after Mrs. Farebrother's death a housekeeper was installed in Parksides. Her name was Mrs. Pamflett, and her age thirty. Being called "Mrs.," the natural inference was that she was either wife or widow; but as no questions were put to her on this point there were none to answer, and it certainly did not appear to be anybody's business but her own. Miser Farebrother, being entirely wrapped up in his money-bags, gave the entire household into the care of Mrs. Pamflett, one of its items being the motherless child Phoebe. A capable housekeeper, thrifty, careful, and willing to work, Miser Farebrother was quite satisfied with her performance of her duties; but she was utterly unfit to rear a child so young as Phoebe, for whom, it must be confessed, she had no particular love, and Phoebe would have fared badly in many ways had it not been for her aunt.