the brushes and palettes, and grind the colors; and, although he had his board and lodging from his master, he must pay for his clothes himself.  It was not a very promising outlook for Fani.  His parents were willing to have him stay away from home, but they expected him at least to support himself, if not to send them some money occasionally.  Mrs. Stein could not decide what ought to be done, and all this new care would have been a very heavy burden to bear, if her sister had not lightened it by her sympathy and encouragement.  Aunty’s cheerful spirit always inspired hope and confidence.

* * * * *

The next morning, Emma, with a downcast air, asked leave to take some flowers over to lay upon the bed by Nora.  Her mother was glad to let her go, and glad too that Fred offered to accompany his sister.  The children were admitted to the house, and shown into the room where Nora lay upon a snow-white bed; herself as white and cold as marble.

Mrs. Stanhope was kneeling by the bedside, her face buried in the coverlet.  Emma laid her flowers upon the bed, and, with fast flowing tears, looked upon the peaceful face, and remembered sadly that she had not done a friendly act for the little invalid, nor helped to wile away her lonely hours.  She left the room sorry and ashamed, regretting her selfishness, when it was too late to do any good.

A little while after, Mrs, Stein came softly into the quiet room.  Mrs. Stanhope raised her head, and, as she returned the kindly greeting, her grief broke out, and she exclaimed with sobs:—­

“Oh, if you knew how miserable I am!  Why—­ah, why! does God take from me my only child?  Fortune and lands, everything else he might have taken, if he would only have left me my child!  This is the very hardest fate that could have befallen me!  Why must I suffer more than any one else in the world?”

“Dear Mrs. Stanhope,” said the doctor’s wife, as she took the poor lady’s hand and pressed it tenderly in her own; “I feel for your sorrow, but I beg you to think of what your child has gained.  God has taken her to himself, and she is free from pain and weariness forevermore, in his sheltering arms.  You do not know what poverty means!  Think of the many mothers who only see their children grow up to hard labor, and suffer for want of food and clothing.  Take the sorrow that God has sent you; do not try to measure it with that of others; the sorrow that comes to each seems the heaviest for each to bear.  But our Father knows why he has given each row, and the road he leads us is the one best for us to follow.”