"My darling, my darling, if it could have been, but it’s too late now,—God is good and will take me to Himself. I thought a great deal before I was sick, and believe I am a better man, and that Jesus is my friend, and I am going to him. I’m glad you told me what you have. It will make my last days happier, and when I am gone, you will find that I did well with you." He put her from him then, for faintness and exhaustion were stealing over him, and that was the last that ever passed between him and Daisy on the subject which all his life had occupied so much of his thoughts. The fever had left him, it is true, but he seemed to have no vital force or rallying power, and, after a few days, it was clear even to Daisy that Tom’s life was drawing to a close. "The man in the corner," who had troubled him so much, was there again, and Tom was very happy. He had thought much of death and what lay beyond during those days when Daisy’s life hung in the balance, and the result of the much thinking had been a full surrender of himself to God, who did not forsake him when the dark, cold river was closing over him. Calm and peaceful as the setting of the summer sun was the close of his life, and up to the last he retained his consciousness, with the exception of a few hours, when his mind wandered a little, and he talked to "that other one," whom no one could see, but whose presence all felt so vividly. "It would have been pleasant, and for a minute I was tempted to take her at her word," he said; "but when I remembered my hair, and face, and hands, and how she liked nothing which was not comely, I would not run the chance of being hated for my repulsive looks. Poor little Daisy! she meant it all right, and I bless her for it, and am glad she said it, but she must not look at me when I’m dead. The frecks she dislikes so much will show plainer then. Don’t let her come near, or, if she must, cover me up,—cover me up,—cover me from her sight." Thus he talked, and Daisy, who knew what he meant, wept silently by his side, and kept the sheet closely drawn over the hands he was so anxious to conceal. He knew her at the last, and bade her farewell, and told her she had been to him the dearest thing in life; and Daisy’s arm was round him, supporting him upon the pillow, and Daisy’s hand wiped the death moisture from his brow, and Daisy’s lips were pressed to his dying face, and her ear caught his faint whisper: "God bless you, darling! I am going home! Good-bye." "The man in the corner,—that other one,"—had claimed him, and Daisy put gently from her the lifeless form which had once been Tom.