Not long did she enjoy her mother's tender care. The poor mother, worn
with her past watching, and weeping, was attacked by fever. As she lay
upon the bed, she was heard to say, "The teacher is long in coming, I
must die alone, and leave my little one; but as it is the will of God, I
am content."
She grew so ill, that she took no notice of anything that passed around
her; but even then she called for her child, and charged the nurse to be
kind to it, and to indulge it in everything till its father returned.
This charge she gave, because she knew the babe wan sick, and needed the
tenderest care. At last the mother lay without moving, her eyes closed,
and her head resting on her arm. Thus she continued for two days, and
then she uttered one cry, and ceased to breathe. Her illness had lasted
eighteen days. Then she rested from her labors, and slept in Jesus.
What now became of little Maria? The wife of an English officer receded
her in her house for a few weeks, and then a missionary and his wife came
to Maria's home, and took charge of the child. Maria was pleased to come
back to her own home, and she fancied that kind Mrs. Wade was her own
mother.
What a day it was when the poor father returned home! No wife to meet
him, with love and joy; only a sickly babe, who had forgotten him, and
turned from him with alarm. Where could he go, but to the grave to weep
there? then he returned to the house to look at the very spot where he
had knelt with his wife in prayer, and parted from her in hope of a happy
return.
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