than physical suffering. At the head of the bed sat the father, holding her hand in his; but when I entered he rose and made way for me, retiring to the foot of the bed, where two of the women were seated. I knelt beside the bed, and Yoletta raised and tenderly placed my right hand on the mother's forehead, and, after whispering to me to let it rest very gently there, she also withdrew a few paces. Chastel did not speak, but for some minutes continued her low, piteous moanings, only her eyes remained fixed on my face; and at last, becoming uneasy at her scrutiny, I said in a whisper: "Dearest mother, do you wish to say anything to me?" "Yes, come nearer," she replied; and when I had bent my cheek close to her face, she continued: "Do not fear, my son; I shall not die. I cannot die until that of which I have spoken to you has been accomplished." I rejoiced at her words, yet, at the same time, they gave me pain; for it seemed as though she knew how much my heart had been troubled by that ignoble fear. "Dear mother, may I say something?" I asked, wishing to tell her of my resolutions. "Not now; I know what you wish to say," she returned. "Be patient and hopeful always, and fear nothing, even though we should be long divided; for it will be many days before I can leave this room to speak with you again." So softly had she whispered, that the others who stood so near were not aware that she had spoken at all. After this brief colloquy she closed her eyes, but for some time the low moans of pain continued. Gradually they sank lower, and became less and less frequent, while the lines of pain faded out of her white, death-like face. And at length Yoletta, stealing softly to my side, whispered, "She is sleeping," and withdrawing my hand, led me away. When we were again in the Mother's Room she threw her arms about my neck and burst into a tempest of tears. "Dearest Yoletta, be comforted," I said, pressing her to my breast; "she will not die." "Oh, Smith, how do you know?" she returned quickly, looking up with her eyes still shining with large drops. Then, of Chastel's whispered words to me, I repeated those four, "I shall not die," but nothing more; they were however, a great relief to her, and her sweet, sorrowful face brightened like a drooping flower after rain. "Ah, she knew, then, that the touch of your hand would cause sleep, that sleep would save her," she said, smiling up at me. "And you, my darling, how long is it since you closed those sweet eyelids that seem so heavy?" "Not since I slept three nights ago." "Will you sit by me here, resting your head on me, and sleep a little now?" "Not there!" she cried quickly. "Not on the mother's couch. But if you will sit here, it will be pleasant if I can sleep for a little while, resting on you."