But all grew
good by being with her---and parents had but to whisper her name--and in
a moment the passionate sob was hushed---the lowering brow lighted--and
the household in peace. Older hearts owned the power of the piety, so
far surpassing their thoughts; and time-hardened sinners, it is said,
when looking and listening to the "Holy Child," knew the errors of their
ways, and returned to the right path, as at a voice from heaven.
Bright was her seventh summer--the brightest, so the aged said, that had
ever, in man's memory, shone over Scotland. One long, still, sunny, blue
day followed another; and in the rainless weather, though the dews kept
green the hills, the song of the streams was low. But paler and paler,
in sunlight and moonlight, became the sweet face that had been always
pale; and the voice that had been always something mournful, breathed
lower and sadder still from the too perfect whiteness of her breast. No
need--no fear---to tell her thai she was about to die! Sweet whispers
had sung it to her in her sleep, and waking she knew it in the look of
the piteous skies.
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