‘I cannot deceive you again mother, fach,’ she said ’I am going away to seek Howel, because he cannot come to me.  If I should never find him, mother—­but I shall, I know I shall, if I should die on the road—­tell him that I never loved any one but him all my life, and I am sure he loves me.  And now I am at peace with all the world, and have repented of all my sins.  Gladys thinks I shall go to heaven if I die.  And I humbly believe I shall.  I feel quite calm and happy in my own mind, only wishful to go to my poor Howel, who is alone and unhappy.  Now, mother, I will go to bed.’

She went to bed accordingly.

‘Let Minette come and say good-night to me, mother,’ she said, when Mrs Prothero had made her comfortable.

Mrs Prothero called the child, and her grandfather brought her upstairs.

‘How does my girl feel to-night?’ asked Mr Prothero cheerfully.

’Better, father, thank you; quite well indeed.  God bless you, darling.  Be a good child to grandmother and Aunt Gladys, and all.  God bless you, father.  I think I should like to have Owen and Gladys to wish me good-night; it is so nice to see you all together.’

Owen and Gladys came, and Netta bade ‘God bless’ them all, and said she should now go to sleep quite happy.

Gladys went to put Minette to bed, and Mrs Prothero sat by Netta’s pillow.

‘Good-night, mother; God bless you,’ Netta said, more than once, before she fell asleep.

When Gladys returned, she was sleeping peacefully.

‘The excitement of the day seems to have passed away,’ whispered Gladys.  ‘Let me watch by her, dear mother.’

The words ‘mother’ and ‘daughter’ had come quite naturally to Mrs Prothero and Gladys.

‘No, Gladys, thank you; not to-night.  I will be in the room to-night.’

‘Then you will go to bed soon?’

‘Yes, very shortly.’

The two women embraced one another tenderly.

‘We can only pray for her, poor lamb,’ said Mrs Prothero gently.  ’I have given her to the Lord to do with her according to His good pleasure.’

‘He will not leave her nor forsake her,’ said Gladys.

Mrs Prothero sat a long time by her child’s side watching her, but she slept so calmly that at last she went to the little table by the fire, and read her Bible.  It was late—­very late for the farm—­when she undressed herself and lay down on the little bed, placed near the larger bed of Netta.  Even then, more than an hour passed before she slept.  The last thing she heard before she closed her eyes was her daughter’s somewhat irregular breathing—­the last words that rang in her ears were her ‘God bless you, mother.’

Gladys, uneasy, she knew not wherefore, was in the room at about three o’clock in the morning.  She had learnt to move so gently that the sleepers were not conscious of her presence.  She was most thankful to find them sleeping.