After the departure of Mrs. Wentworth, the little girl lie still upon the bed, while her little brother played about the room. Nearly one hour elapsed in silence. The breath of the child became shorter and harder drawn. Her little face became more pinched, while the cold drops of perspiration rose larger on her forehead. Instinct told her she was dying, but young as she was, death created no terrors in her heart. She lay there, anxious for her mother's return, that she may die in the arms of the one who gave her birth. Death seemed to her but the advent to Heaven, that home in which we are told all is goodness and happiness. She thought herself an Angel dwelling with the Maker, and in her childish trustfulness and faith almost wished herself already numbered among the Cherubs of Paradise. The old negro returned before Mrs. Wentworth, and walking to the bedside of the child, looked at her, and recognized the impress of approaching death. She felt alarmed, but could not remedy the evil. Looking at the child sorrowfully for a moment, she turned away. "Poh chile," she muttered sadly, "she is dyin' sho' and her mammy is gone out. Da's a ting to take place in my room." "Granny," said Ella feebly. "What do you want my darlin' chile," answered the old woman, returning to the bedside. "See if mother is coming," she requested. The old woman walked to the door, and looked down the street. There was no sign of Mrs. Wentworth. "No missy," she said to Ella, "your mammy is not coming yet." "Oh, I do wish she would come," remarked the little girl. "Lie still, darlin'," the old woman answered. "Your mammy will come back directly." The child lay still for several minutes, but her mother came not and she felt that before many hours she would cease to live. "Look again, granny, and see if mother is coming," she again requested, and in a fainter tone. The old woman looked out once more, but still there was no sign of Mrs. Wentworth. "Neber mind, darlin' your mammy will cum directly," she said, and then added. "Let me know what you want and I will git it for you." "I don't want anything, granny," Ella answered, and remained silent for a moment, when she continued: "Granny aint I going to die?" The old negro looked at her for a moment, and a tear stole down her withered features. She could not answer, for ignorant and uneducated as she was, the signs which betoken the parting of the soul from the body, were too apparent, not to be easily recognized. "Poh chile," she muttered, as she turned her head and brushed away the falling tear. "Answer me, granny," said Ella. "I am not afraid to die, but I would like to bid mother good-bye, before I went to Heaven." "Don't tink of sich tings chile'" observed the old woman. "You is sick now only; lie still and you will soon see your mother."