But I will be with thee, and thee must not sorrow for me." "Oh, mother," said the girl, burying her face in her apron, "are you going to die?
How can I live in this world without you ?" And swaying backwards and forwards, she cried bitterly.
"Not yet, my child, not yet; I have work to do and there are happy days in store for us both; but some day, Morva, it must come, and when it comes thou must not grieve for me.

Come, 'merch i, 'tis late; let us go to bed." And the girl, somewhat comforted, dried her eyes and closed the rickety door.

She slept heavily after her late watching, so heavily that she did not hear when Sara rose in the grey of the dawn.

At her usual time Morva rose too, and immediately missed her mother.

A wild fear throbbed through her heart as she searched in and out of the cottage.
"Mother!" she called up the step ladder which led to the loft, out in the cwrt and in the garden.