’Is it too hard for you, Jonathan?’ he whispered as he saw that the glass trembled a little. (Too hard for me? ah, Ross, always yourself last), and, choking back the tears, I told him ’No.’ Presently, when he felt a little easier, he opened his eyes and said, ’Eat your supper, darling,’ but as I shook my head he added, with a flash of his old mastery,— ’Just the milk, little ’un. I must send you away if you don’t. Sit where I can see you, there by the fire. I told nurse you liked one at night, you always felt so chilly.’ I drank the milk to please him, and ate a bit of biscuit as he lay and watched me. Then as I crossed the room to kiss him he said,— ’You are so sweet when you obey one, and that half biscuit was pure, unadulterated virtue, Meg! How very "cowogated" it is to-night,’ and he laughed as he tried to stroke my hair, and as I leaned over him he whispered,— ’Such a perfect little sister always, Jonathan.’ Then the agony again—suddenly his face convulsed and he gasped out,— ’Stand away, somewhere where you cannot see me.’ And he hid his face as I obeyed him. I don’t know if I stood long there by the fire, with my back towards him, waiting, listening to the shuddering sobs that shook him. I could not even pray, I could not feel the everlasting arms were underneath, I only said in deep rebellion, ’This is not sent in love.’ Once I heard him sigh as if in answer to a question, ’Yes, if you wish it, Sir.’ And then a silence and the whisper of my name. I was frightened at the exhausted look upon his face, and this time he took the brandy, and when the dear, pain-clouded eyes had cleared a little he whispered, and there were pauses in between the words now,— ’Sorry, darling—remember—your—funny char. Our Lady—of Ventre, Meg—you see, "it’s—my inside!" he said apologetically, and tried to smile. ’Sponge me again—darling.’ Then he lay very quiet and tired, but presently grew a little stronger, and said without opening his eyes,— ’It’s true about the everlasting arms, Meg. I confessed to my Redeemer and I’m shriven, tell daddy, don’t forget. I had the Holy Communion, darling. The Padre here is such a good chap. He lighted two tall candles, but I couldn’t blow ’em out, tell Aunt Amelia!’ and his eyes were twinkling when he opened them. Then he was quiet again, and after a moment said,— ’He is so perfect if one even _tries_ to be dutiful. I do adore Him so.’ And then, ’Tell me about the garden.’ I told him all about the flowers, and which of the roses were in bloom, and about Dame Nature making the scent, and what Toby had said about the stork. ’And is he coming, Meg?’ ’Oh, Ross, I think I’ve heard the faintest far-off flutter of his wings.’ ’Give him my love,’ he whispered. ’Who, darling?’ I inquired, thinking he hadn’t understood. ’The little son,’ he said.