After a few more questions the physicians withdrew, promising to return on the following day. Mr. Heath followed them, but learned nothing definite. Mabel had a dreadful night; all the symptoms of water on the brain, hitherto wanting, came on with great force. How they lived through the next harrowing two weeks they hardly knew. Many whom Mrs. Grey had blessed in similar scenes, came now, full of tender sympathy to help support them through the fortnight in which the patient little lamb died daily, so distressing was her exhaustion. They were prayed for by hundreds some of them had never seen; and their faith failed not. For a week the bright eyes remained open, and there was no sleep. They had ceased asking for her life, but prayed for the mercy of rest. And at last it came, and the weary eyes were closed. They knelt around the bed and gave thanks. Then came one of those quick decisions on Margaret's part, that dotted her whole life as with stars. She put off her tears, went quietly to her room, and on a wide white ribbon, with teeth set hard together, began to paint. So, when Belle went to take her parting look at her darling before the funeral, there lay upon the coffin, within the ribbon, delicate flowers and green sprays, with the words: "_Now_ I lay me down to sleep." It was an inexpressible comfort, and Margaret was rewarded by the most loving embrace she had known for years. "You are entering on mamma's mission of sympathizer very early," said Belle. "God bless you for it. After this you will be associated with every thought of my darling." "I think God has special love for those He takes so early," said Mrs. Grey. "Dear little Mabel's character was unusually lovely, and now it will never be anything else." Belle struggled to speak, but could not. At last she said: "I cut this epitaph from a newspaper when quite a young girl. How little I then thought how it would come home to me! "'Oh!' said the gardener, as he passed down the garden-walk, 'who plucked that flower? Who gathered that plant?' His fellow-servant answered, 'THE MASTER!' and the gardener held his peace.'" CHAPTER XXIV. Mrs. Grey went home with the sorrowing family, taking Margaret with her, but leaving Gabrielle and the two boys at Greylock. They were too inexperienced to understand that a sublime joy is perfectly consistent with deep grief, and shrank from witnessing pain they believed to be without alleviation. The thought of a funeral was very repugnant to them, as was everything connected with the subject of death. They had yet to learn how Christ has conquered that last enemy, and how the soul may be cast down, yet always rejoicing.