136 THE SICK CHILD. 



" I've brought my Rachel a pretty nosegay," said he, as he 

 stooped forward to kiss her, and laid the flowers on the cover- 

 lid. The child, grasping them in her little thin fingers, raised 

 them to her faded face. 



" Stay, darling, there's a Lady-bird on that white rose, let 

 me put it out." 



" Oh, pretty Lady-bird ! " cried the little girl, her large 

 sunken eyes lighting up for a moment with childish delight. 

 " No, let me keep it, only all to-day ; and to-morrow I'll take 

 it out myself, and bid it fly away home, as poor mamma so often 

 told me." 



11 But suppose it should please to fly away to-day, how can 

 my little Rachel help it?" 



" Oh, I'll put it in a box, and give it nice green leaves, as 

 many as it can eat, and " 



Poor Rachel's voice was not strong enough to complete the 

 list of luxuries she would have promised her prisoner in lieu 

 of liberty; but, as if already bribed to quietude, the insect, 

 which had hitherto been describing circles round the rose, 

 stood still near its centre. Delighted to find his little nurse- 

 ling well enough (for the first time in four days) to notice and 

 seem amused by anything, the father separated the white 

 rose from the other flowers, and placing it on a table at the foot 

 of the bed, inverted a tumbler over it. 



" There, sweet one," said he, " your Lady-bird is safe." 

 The child was satisfied, and went to sleep again, thinking of 

 her pleasure in letting it fly to-morrow. 



When that morrow came, no daylight was allowed to pene- 

 trate through the darkened window of the chamber where the 

 Lady-bird still occupied its crystal prison, for the little child 

 who was to have bid it fly her innocent spirit had taken its 

 own flight home. 



* * # * # '* 



The funeral was over : the chief the only mourner, stood 

 in the unwelcome daylight just admitted, beside the bed on 



