“Oh, why can you not stay till evening? There is no moon, to be sure, but then the clear starlight nights are very brilliant, and the river is as smooth as a mirror,” pleaded Emolyn, with more earnestness than the occasion seemed to warrant, as she clasped and held Em.’s hand. “Well, you see, ma’am, we left a very sick woman in our house, Ann Whitlock, who has been with us so long that she seems like a relation,” Susan explained. “Ann Whitlock?” inquired Emolyn musingly. “Why, my dear young lady, she was the sick-nurse that was with your uncle in his latter days, you know.” “Yes, to be sure!” said Emolyn thoughtfully. “And after that she was nurse in the same hospital where I was a patient. And she saved little Em.’s life, as I explained to you once, ma’am.” “Oh, yes, I remember,” sighed Emolyn. “And since then me and John have felt she had a claim on us, and we have taken care of her in her old days.” “That was very sweet of you, Susan Palmer! And she is sick now, you say?” “Yes, ma’am, very much so. She had a paralytic stroke yesterday while Em. was here. To be sure, she has rallied a little, and the doctor thinks there’s no present danger of death. Still, nobody can tell. So you see, ma’am, we must not leave her all day.” “I see,” said the lady thoughtfully. And she touched the bell that brought her young page to her presence. She gave him an order in a low voice, and he left the room. “Em., get our things,” said Susan Palmer. The girl went and brought them. While Em. and her mother were putting on their shawls and hats the page returned, bringing a hamper of wine, which he set down on the carpet before his mistress. “Susan Palmer,” said the lady, “when my uncle was paralyzed the doctor ordered him to drink champagne as freely as water. You know it kept him alive for many months, if it could not cure him. Take this to your invalid and give it to her freely. When it is nearly gone let me know and I will send another hamper.” “Oh, Miss Emolyn, how thankful I am! And how grateful poor Ann Whitlock will be! Heaven bless you, my dear! How like you this is!” exclaimed Susan fervently. “The boy will take it down to the boat for you.” “Much obliged, my dear lady, but I am a deal better able to carry it than the boy, and with your good leave I will do it,” said John. “As you please, Mr. Palmer.” “Good-by, my dear Miss Emolyn. May you be very happy for all the rest of your life! Oh, for years and years after we lost sight of you my prayers went up day and night that I might see you once more before I died until at last we all gave you up for dead; then I stopped praying for you. But now, Miss Emolyn, that I have the joy of seeing you again, I shall pray day and night to the Lord to bless you and to make you happy!” “Yes. Pray for me, dear good woman. Oh, how I need your prayers!”