"But your face,—your beautiful face," Sarah said, and then Daisy did hesitate a moment, and glancing into a hall mirror, wondered how the face she saw there, and which she knew was beautiful, would look scarred and disfigured as she had seen faces in New York. There was a momentary conflict, and then, with an inward prayer that Heaven would protect her, she passed on down the narrow hall and knocked softly at No. —, while Sarah stood wringing her hands in genuine distress, and feeling as if her young mistress had gone to certain ruin. CHAPTER XII.—IN THE SICK ROOM. Julia had the small-pox in its most aggravated form. Where she took it, or when, she did not know; nor did it matter. She _had_ it, and for ten days she had seen no one but her husband and physician, and had no care but such as Guy could give her. He had been unremitting in his attention. Tender and gentle as a woman, he had nursed her night and day, with no thought for himself and the risk he ran. It was a bad disease at the best, and now in its worse type it was horrible, but Julia bore up bravely, thinking always more of others than of herself, and feeling so glad that Providence had sent them to those out-of-the-way rooms, where she had at first thought she could not pass a night comfortably. Her children were in the room adjoining, and she could hear their little voices as they played together, or asked for their mamma, and why they must not see her. Alas! they would never see her again; she knew, and Guy knew it too. The doctor had told them so when he left them that night, and between the husband and wife words had been spoken such as are only said when hearts which have been one are about to be severed for ever. To Julia there was no terror in death, save as it took her from those she loved, her husband and her little ones, and these she had given into God’s keeping knowing His promises are sure. To Guy she had said: "You have made me so happy. I want you to remember when I am gone, that I would not have one look or act of yours changed if I could, and yet, forgive me, Guy, for saying it, but I know you must often have thought of that other one whom, you loved first, and it may be best." Guy could not speak, but he smoothed her hair tenderly, and his tears dropped upon the swollen face he could not kiss, as Julia went on.