When the time came to approach the altar, Reverend Mother led the children to the communion rail, while the choir sang soft and low, "Come Into My Heart, Dear Jesus, Come."

Little Amy looked so white and seemed to tremble.

The priest stood with the Sacred Host in his hands; slowly and with evident emotion, repeating the "Domine non sum dignus."

The children then returned to their seats with hands joined and eyes cast down; Amy's cheeks, which had been so pale were now delicately colored. There was such a transformation. It seemed that a smile from heaven played around her lips, to give them angelic grace.

After Ma.s.s the children were clasped in their parents' arms, and all the sisters and friends congratulated them on their happiness.

In taking leave Mr. Allen thanked the Reverend Mother most heartily for her kindness to his family and expressed himself as being "almost conquered."

Mrs. Allen remained with her children for the afternoon services, which were: The renovation of the Baptismal vows, Benediction of the Blessed Sacrament and a short sermon.

THE CHAPLAIN'S ADDRESS TO THE FIRST COMMUNICANTS.

Dear children I do not intend speaking to you of Faith. I am sure yours is firm and sincere. I come only to remind you of your promises made to our blessed Lord this morning, to ask you to fill your hearts to overflowing with love. Love for our merciful Jesus in all stages of His life and death, but particularly love for Him in the divine Sacrament.

Love makes all things easy! so dear children, never tire asking the Blessed Mother of Jesus to give you of the love which filled her heart, that yours may ever be adorned with the virtues which will make it a fit abiding place for your merciful and sweet Saviour.

Love for Jesus will give you patience to bear with the contradictions and crosses you meet with; even little children have crosses. They may be reprimanded for a fault which another committed; bear the reproof patiently for the love of Jesus; a companion may be harsh and unjust towards you, be glad that you have something to suffer for love of Jesus. A bouquet of sacrifices to offer at the end of each day, will be more acceptable than if it were the most exquisite flowers culled from your gardens.

Dearest children come as often as you can to the Holy Table, don't be afraid--don't think of your unworthiness, no one ever was entirely worthy of Holy Communion, except the Blessed Mother of Jesus.

Come! I say, eat this heavenly bread that you may be strong to resist all temptations, that you may learn to love our Lord devotedly on earth, so as to be prepared for an eternity of love in Heaven.

CHAPTER XIII.

UNFORSEEN EVENTS.

After all the exercises had been performed, Mrs. Allen and the children bade farewell to the Sisters, and Reverend Mother gave them a pressing invitation to visit the Convent often.

When our friends reached Midville Station, Papa Allen was waiting for them with the carriage, which soon brought them to "Home, Sweet Home,"

as Bo sung out, when he saw Aunt Lucy, Uncle d.i.c.k and Hetty standing at the gate.

Bo hugged every one, including Don, when that, too demonstrative beast gave him a chance to notice any one but his own dogship.

Uncle d.i.c.k declared he never again would complain of noise for "the house has been like a desert without our harum-scarum."

Amy and her brother kept together as much as possible during the remainder of the summer. The pony chaise was in demand every afternoon, and the children always invited a few of their friends to enjoy a drive with them.

One day Mrs. Allen filled a basket with roses, which she gave to Amy, saying: "I wonder if you and Bolax wouldn't like to take these up to Grandma Barton." Allie Thornton, who was present, asked: "Is she your real Grandma?" "Oh, no," answered Amy; "she is a poor old lady, nearly blind, to whom Mamma sends things; we love to go to see her." "Let me carry the basket to the chaise; it feels quite heavy," remarked Estelle.

"Very likely Mamma has placed a pot of jelly under the flowers," said Amy. "My mother says that when we bestow a gift we make it doubly acceptable by giving it in a graceful manner. This old lady has no relatives to look after her, she has a son, but she does not know where he is. Mamma says it is pitiful to hear the poor soul talk of that son, how she prays for him and hopes he will come back to her before she becomes entirely helpless." "I just hope G.o.d will punish that son!"

exclaimed Bo. "Father Anthony says anyone who is cruel to his parents will have no luck in this world and be everlastingly punished in the next." "Dear brother, don't hope evil for any one, rather let us pray that the heartless son may be inspired to think of his dear old mother and return to her." Just here a bend of the road brought them upon a little cottage of the romantic order, overgrown with woodbine, in which Grandma had a room. The dear old lady greeted the children heartily, thanking them for the flowers. "Take seats, my dears; oh, not there child, that is Velvet Ear's chair," and Bolax sprang aside just in time to save himself from sitting upon a tiny skye-terrier.

"Are you well this morning?" asked Amy. "Oh, very well, dear," answered Grandma.

After a few more pleasant remarks the children bid good-bye, then getting into the cart drove leisurely along the road.

Suddenly there was a thunder-clap, and a dark cloud appeared where the sun had shone a moment before.

"Drive as fast as you can, Brother; I fear we will be drenched!" while she was speaking, the rain poured down. Bo knowing how easily his sister took cold, divested himself of his jacket and put it around her. "Ben Bolt" seemed to take in the situation and got up a speed he had never before shown. When they reached home all were soaked. Estelle laughed about her plight, but Bo hurried his sister into the house, where his mother and aunt soon had her in a warm bath, then to bed with a cup of hot lemonade, hoping thus to ward off the consequences of such a severe drenching.

In a few days Amy began to cough. Dr. Carroll looked serious when asked if the cough would last long.

In ten days the child grew rapidly worse, and Mrs. Allen sent for her husband, who was on one of his Western trips. He came home to find his little daughter so ill, that her life was almost despaired of. Bravely the doctors fought against the dread disease which they feared would end fatally, although they managed to ward off the danger for a time.

The Sisters came up from the Convent to see the dear child and try to console her father and mother.

We will have all our children and sisters pray if it be G.o.d's will to spare your beloved one.

AMY'S DEATH.

It is a sweet October morning, a tender mist, gray in the distance, rose-colored and golden where the rays of light strike it more directly, envelopes the landscape; the trees are decked in holiday attire--green, russet, orange and scarlet.

On a couch placed near the window reclines the meek patient sufferer.

Aunt Lucy stands near, Hetty kneels beside her "baby" with a cup of beef tea trying to coax her to swallow a few spoonfuls.

"Hetty, dear, don't force me, I am not hungry." "My blessed angel do take just a few drops for your old Hetty."

Amy heeded not, her thoughts were far away. "Auntie," she remarked, "isn't that woods like a piece of Heaven? See how the trees glisten as the sun shines on their waving branches. How glorious Heaven must be when earth is so filled with beauty."

Aunt Lucy looked into the ethereal face, and unbidden tears coursed down her cheeks.

Hetty stooped over the wan little hand, and kissing it, hastened from the room, her heart bursting with grief. In the kitchen she met old Pat, his head bowed and his whole bearing showing the depth of his grief for what all now saw was inevitable.

"Hetty," said he in a hoa.r.s.e whisper, "is she going?" "Oh, Pat, I feel dis is de last day we will have our angel child. Dey done telephoned for Dr. Carroll, he will be here directly."

At two o'clock the doctor told the a.s.sembled household, that but a few hours of life remained for the dear one.

At three o'clock death with "solemn steps and slow," is steadily approaching. Now her voice, which before has been scarcely above a whisper, becomes strong again, as is frequently the case in the dying, and she tries to sing in the old sweet way: "Jesus, Jesus, Dearest Lord."

It seems as though the angels were present, Heaven so fills the room.

After a moment's rest she turned her eyes on the weeping company, and said: "Don't weep for me, rather rejoice that I will soon be with Our Dear Lord and His Blessed Mother. Mamma, dear, say that beautiful prayer that ends with--'Merciful Jesus have mercy on me.'"

"Mamma, dear, you will come to me in Heaven. There will be no parting, we will walk together through the golden streets, and through the beautiful gardens forever. Come, kiss me now, darling mother!"

Then she addressed Mr. Allen, who stood with great tear-drops rolling down his face, his heart broken with sorrow.

"Dear Papa, how I love you! You have been such a loving father to me and Brother, so good to dear Mamma--Forgive my having tried your patience so often."

"Heart's dearest," answered her father, "you have never caused me a moment of trouble in all your life."