When, after two long hours of watching on their part, and deep refreshing sleep on Meg's, she again opened her eyes and turned to her babe, the little spirit had already taken flight to the land where "their angels do alway behold the face of the Father which is in heaven." "Meg, my girl," said Jem's voice, oh, so tenderly, "you'd be willin' to give him up into our Saviour's care if He was to ask it?" "I think I would," she answered in a wondering tone, but looking up quite collectedly. "Because I think the Good Shepherd has been callin' him, my dear." Meg could turn her head now; she raised herself on her elbow, and gazed at the little face. "Jem," she said helplessly, and laid her head back on her pillow with a sob. Her mother-in-law bent over her. "Let me take him for a little while, my child; it will be better so." Meg made no objection, and her mother lifted the tiny form to her lap, and crossed its wee hands on its breast. "May it go in my cradle, just for once?" asked Meg beseechingly. And so he was laid in the little cot that Meg had prepared with such loving hands, and Jem put it on a chair by her side; and then he sat down again by her, and they both wept together. After a long time Meg wiped away her tears. "Jem," she said softly, "I can say it now: 'The Lord gave, and the Lord hath taken away, _blessed_ be the name of the Lord.'" Jem and his mother watched by her side till the clock in the other room struck twelve, and then Mrs. Seymour signed to him to go and take some rest. But though not a word had been spoken nor a movement made, Meg started up. "There it is again!" "What, my dear?" asked Mrs. Seymour soothingly. "Lie down, and I'll see to it." But Meg could not be silenced so. "Jem," she urged, doing, however, as her mother wished, "Jem, you said you'd go and see about it. Oh, Jem dear, my heart will break!" "I will, Meg," he answered at once. "You're bein' so ill put it out of my head. I'll go at once." He rose, and his mother followed him out of the room. "I think she's a bit light-headed, Jem; don't go out, my dear. What does she mean?" "I know," answered Jem hurriedly. "Let me go, mother; I ought to have been there ever so long ago." He went, and Meg lay wide awake listening. She took the gruel her mother brought her, and pronounced herself much better. Often her eyes rested on the little cot, but she did not cry, nor did she say anything about it. Once she asked hesitatingly-- "Mother, did I dream it, or did some one say that Jem was dead?" "It was a mistake," answered Mrs. Seymour, "a cruel carelessness. It was a man of the name of Seymour, who lives, we find, in the second house up the court, and people sent them here. 'Twas a cruel thing to say it out like that!" Meg asked no more, and before long she heard Jem's step coming up the stairs and entering the room. He came softly to her bedside, and then, as if he could no longer bear it, he threw himself on his knees and wept bitterly.