The second
was not nearly so lovely as the first, but her face, too, bore that
same look of heavenly sweetness which Peter felt instinctively none but
angels' faces could wear. It was the look which older people than Peter
have often marveled at; the look one sees upon the faces of those who
have died to the world and to themselves and given their entire being to
God in a life of charity and self-sacrifice.
The second angel laid her fingers on his wrist and seemed to be counting
something as she kept her eyes on a small silver watch she held in her
hand. Then she poured a spoonful of bright-colored liquid from a bottle,
and, lifting his head, bade him swallow the medicine. Unquestioningly he
obeyed, and as his head was laid back upon the pillow he felt himself
slipping away into the land of oblivion. Just as consciousness was
leaving him, he heard a voice, seemingly far away, saying:
"He will do very nicely now, Sister Agnes. It was simply a case of
starvation and complete exhaustion."
Vaguely he wondered what she meant.
GOD'S WAY.
"We have reached the summit at last, Cecile? The hill seemed unusually
steep to-night and the way unusually long."
"Yes, mother, we have reached the top at last and here is the rustic
bench on which we usually sit and watch the sun go down behind those
blue and misty hills in the distance.
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