She lay there, anxious for her mother's return, that she may die in the arms of the one who gave her birth.

Death seemed to her but the advent to Heaven, that home in which we are told all is goodness and happiness.

She thought herself an Angel dwelling with the Maker, and in her childish trustfulness and faith almost wished herself already numbered among the Cherubs of Paradise.
The old negro returned before Mrs.Wentworth, and walking to the bedside of the child, looked at her, and recognized the impress of approaching death.

She felt alarmed, but could not remedy the evil.
Looking at the child sorrowfully for a moment, she turned away.
"Poh chile," she muttered sadly, "she is dyin' sho' and her mammy is gone out.

Da's a ting to take place in my room." "Granny," said Ella feebly.
"What do you want my darlin' chile," answered the old woman, returning to the bedside.
"See if mother is coming," she requested.
The old woman walked to the door, and looked down the street.