CHAPTER TWENTIETH.
THE DYING CHILD.
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.