"Who will take care of her?" asked Sallie, beginning to cry.

"They sent for her aunt, who has never been near them since their mother died, and she's there now. She has money, and she says the poor child shall not want for anything that money will buy."

"Oh, mother! to think that I have killed her! I feel almost sure she will die. She's so good, I used to tell the girls, she ought to go to heaven; but it is dreadful that I killed her."

Sallie sobbed so violently that her mother became alarmed; but for some time she tried in vain to soothe her.

"They'll all blame me. I never shall dare to see uncle Oliver or Esther again. They can't live without her. Oh, oh dear! I wish she never had come. Mother, do please go over there quick, and tell them how very sorry I am. Hatty taught me to love the Saviour, and how can I let her die?"

To please her child the widow went. Hatty lay in the bedroom adjoining the sitting-room, which was usually occupied by uncle Oliver. Close by her side sat Esther, looking pale and wan as if months instead of hours of racking anxiety had passed over her. Mrs. Foster was preparing some medicine near the window, while the old man, with a heart almost broken with sorrow, was cutting up wood at the side of the house farthest from the chamber.

As the widow entered the room, Hatty turned her eyes to the door and recognized her.

"Are you in much pain?" she asked, greatly moved.

"Jesus helps me bear it all."

This was said with a gasp.

"She never complains," faltered Esther, with quivering lips.

"Sallie, how is she?" murmured the sick girl.

"Much better, if she were not so distressed about you."

"I am safe with Jesus. He gives me perfect peace."

Her aunt began to weep.

"Don't cry, dear aunty," she said caressingly. "You will come too; you and Esther, and uncle Oliver. We shall all be there. Mother will be there, too, for Esther says she used to pray."

She paused for a moment, quite exhausted; but presently looked up with a smile and added, "I shall see Mr. Munson and tell him about Sallie. Wont he be glad?"

The widow was quite overcome but tried to control herself.

"Tell him," she said, "that I'm almost through. I'm trying to bear his loss with patience. Tell him God has been true to his promise: 'As thy day is so shall thy strength be.' I trust we shall meet soon and never be parted again."

She stooped silently over the sick child, kissed her, and was going out when Hatty whispered,—

"Tell Sallie good-bye. It's all peace here," laying her hand on her heart. "I'm not afraid to trust my Saviour."

Mrs. Foster followed her to the door. "It's a scene I never shall forget," she said, sobbing. "Such a lesson as that child has taught me. Oh, if I'd only done my duty, she might have lived for years."

"Jesus loves her and wants her with him," answered Mrs. Munson. "You know he prayed his Father that those who loved him might be with him where he is, that they may behold his glory. Think how happy she will be."

As hours passed on, that room became almost like heaven. An indescribable expression of peace was stamped on the pale features. Heaven had indeed come down into her own heart. For hours she lay in a kind of rapture. Once or twice she sung a part of her favorite hymn, repeating over and over the lines,

Through this day and the next the house was thronged with schoolmates and friends, come to take a last look of one so dear. Matilda and Cynthia, Ethel and Bill, pressed forward to thank her for the example she had always set them.

"What shall we do," cried Ethel, sobbing aloud, "when our peace-maker has gone?"

With a heavenly smile she replied, "You shall be peace-maker. See how God keeps his promise to me. 'They shall be called the children of God.'

"Ethel," she went on, "you've always been like a real brother to me. For my sake will you be kind to Esther?"

"Yes, I will."

"And I too," sobbed Bill; "but we shall miss you dreadfully."

"Give your hearts to Jesus, and 'twont be long before we shall meet again."

The end came at last. Hatty's sufferings were nearly over. She lay propped up with pillows, her head resting against her aunt's breast. Esther sat near, holding her hand, which she continually covered with kisses. Uncle Oliver sat in his arm-chair, at the foot of the bed, his face shaded with his hands, his breast heaving convulsively.

The minister stood where Hatty's eyes rested on him. He was reading from the twenty-third Psalm: "The Lord is my Shepherd, I shall not want.... Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for thou art with me; thy rod and thy staff they comfort me."

"Yes, yes," murmured the white lips. "He is with me. I'm not afraid. He has pardoned all my sins, and washed me in the fountain filled with blood; I'm—going to be—with him—forever,—I'm so—so happy!"

She lay so quiet that all feared her soul had fled away; but presently, with a bright smile, she murmured,—

"I—I'm going now—good-bye—all. He gives me peace—perfect—peace;" and then fell sweetly asleep in Jesus. "He giveth his beloved sleep," repeated the kind minister. "Look at her now! The peace of God which passeth all understanding dwells in her now and forevermore."

The next Sabbath her body was carried to the church, where a sermon was preached from her favorite text,—"Blessed are the peace-makers for they shall be called the children of God."

The clergyman reminded the children of her who had so truly and earnestly been a peace-maker, and entreated them to follow her example, that they might have peace in life and triumph in death.

The influence of Hatty was long felt. By her entreaties on her dying bed, her aunt and uncle Oliver, long estranged, were brought together, and ever after lived as she would have had them, caring tenderly for poor Esther, till her own peaceful death, two years later.

My dear little reader, will you not try to be a peace-maker?