DAISY 47

harp, and you will have other little children to
play with you; and there will be beautiful fields
and flowers—’

«How werry nice,’ half sighed, half breathed
the exhausted child. <\ sweet, almost seraphic
smile, flitted over her little face.  "['hen a doubt
assailed her, With a last, supreme effort, she
tried to raise herself, and look in his face. ‘re
you comin’ too, Woland?”

A look of blank despair met her loving glance.
Surprised and bewildered, she shook off for an
instant her coming lethargy. «Woland,” she said
sharply, “1 sha’n’t go to heaven widout you.”
T’hen she sank back on the pillow—her eyes
closed.

The frightful tension in which the lad held
himself gave way. ler little fingers slipped