22 TRUE RICHES; OR,

 

Too well did the dying man comprehend the
meaning of this glance. -

“God will take care of her. He will raise her
up friends,” said he quickly; yet, even as he spoke,
his heart failed him.

‘¢ All that is left to us is our trust in Him,” mur-
mured the wife and mother. Her voice, though so
low as to be almost a whisper, was firm. She real-
ized, as she spoke, how much of bitterness was in
the parting hours of the dying one, and she felt
that duty required her to sustain him, so far as she
had the strength to do so. And so she nerved her
woman’s heart, almost breaking as it was, to bear
and hide her own sorrows, while she strove to
comfort and strengthen the failing spirit of her
husband.

“God is good,” said she, after a brief silence,
during which she was striving for the mastery over
her weakness. As she spoke, she leaned over the
sick man, and looked at him lovingly, and with the
smile of an angel on her counteance.

“Yes, God is good, Fanny. Have we not proved
this, again and again ?” was returned, a feeble light
coming into the speaker’s pale face.

“A thousand times, dear! a thousand times!”
said the wife, earnestly. “He is infinite in his good-
ness, and we are his children.”

‘Yes, his children,” was the whispered response.
And over and over again he repeated the words,
‘His children ;” his voice falling lower and lower
each time, until at length his eyes closed, and his
in-going thought found no longer an utterance.

Twilight had come. The deepening shadows were