"You are quite happy, dearest Ellen!" I exclaimed, weeping on her thin emaciated hand.
"Most happy, beloved. Do not grieve--be resigned--be joyful. I have a word to say. Nurse," she continued, calling to her attendant--"the drawing."
The nurse placed in her hand the sketch which she had taken of my favourite scene.
"Do you remember, love?" said she. "Keep it, for Ellen--you loved that spot--oh, so did I!--and you will love it still. There is another sketch, you will find it by and by--afterwards--when I am----It is in my desk. Keep that too, for Ellen, will you? It is the last drawing I have made."
I sat by and bit my lips to crush my grief, but I would not be silent whilst my heart as breaking.
"You should rejoice, dear," continued Ellen solemnly. "We did not expect this separation so very soon; but it is better now than later. Be sure it is merciful and good. Prepare for this hour, Caleb; and when it comes, you will be so calm, so ready to depart. How short is life! Do not waste the precious hours. Read from St John, dearest--the eleventh chapter. It is all sweetness and consolation."
The sun was dropping slowly into the west, leaving behind him a deep red glow that illuminated the hills, and burnished the windows of the sick-chamber. The wind moaned, and, sweeping the sere leaves at intervals, threatened a tempest. There was a solemn stillness in the parsonage, around whose gate--weeping in silence, without heart to speak, or wish to make their sorrow known--were collected a host of humble creatures--the poorest but sincerest friends of Ellen--the villagers who had been her care. They waited and lingered for the heavy news, which they were told must come to them this day; and prayed secretly--every one of them, old and young--for mercy on the sufferer's soul! And she, whose gentle spirit is about to flit, lies peacefully, and but half-conscious of the sounds that pass to heaven on her behalf. Her father, Mayhew, and I, kneel round her bed, and the minister in supplicating tones, where nature does not interpose, dedicates the virgin to _His_ favour whose love she has applied so well. He ceases, for a whisper has escaped her lips. We listen all. "_Oh, this is peace_!" she utters faintly, but most audibly, and the scene is over.