“To die so, in her prime, her youth, her beauty; to be left to die, because they say there’s no cure for it; THEY NEVER TRIED TO CURE HER!” exclaimed the nurse, between her bursts of grief—“no place to shelter her—no one to see to her—no proper food, or air, or care—my heart’s jewel—who cared for all, when she had it! Still, the Lord is merciful; another week, and I should have had nothing but a drop of cold water to moisten her lips, and no bed for her to lie on. I kept _that_ to the last, anyhow; and now it may go; it must go; small loss; what matter what comes of the likes of me, when such as her could have no help! I’ll beg from door to door, ’till I raise enough to lay her by her father’s side, in the churchyard of ould Chelsea.” But that effort, at all events, was not needed; the hospital was astir; the sergeant-major was remembered; and the church-bell tolled when Lucy was laid in her father’s grave, in the CHURCHYARD OF OLD CHELSEA. [Picture: The Old Church, Chelsea] L’ENVOY. [Picture: Woman with child] THE reader of this little book must not close it with a sad aspect. Thank God, there are few griefs without some counterbalancing comforts; and this afflicting subject, so long _without hope_, is now FULL OF HOPE. The contrasts of life, the lights and shadows of existence, are sometimes so strong as to be absolutely painful; yet their strength and rapidity of change are, in many cases, blessings. Our church bell the other morning had been tolling, at intervals, for a funeral; the morning was dull and clouded, and the sound, instead of rising through the atmosphere, boomed heavily and gloomily along it. A cesssation followed: I was so occupied that I hardly noted how long it was, when, suddenly, the joy bells struck up, ringing out such merry music that I remembered, at once, there was a wedding going forward that day; a right gay bridal; rank, fashion, and wealth; love also, I had been told, was, of a surety, there; all that young hearts desire bring gathered together; and the bells again and again rang forth, until the air vibrated. At first the change was very painful; so sudden, and startling, and jarring, that I longed to shut it out; but when I opened my window and looked forth, the contrast of sight was as great as was that of sound; the clouds were floating away in the distance, and around us all was light! I was almost angry with myself for feeling so immediately happy; but, after the lapse of a few minutes, the heaviness of the past was superseded by the joyfulness of the present. The evening came in due time, with its sober hues and tones, and I had leisure to think over the doleful knell and the marriage ringings; and then, indeed, I saw, with gratitude to Him who orders all things for the best, how wise it is that the tear should be followed by the smile, and that cause for sorrow should be succeeded by motive for joy!