Mother was far from strong that winter. The damp tried her again, and her cough was often very bad. It was strange to me to see how all this seemed to be taking effect on her, and how much less she cared about dress and show than she had done. One Sunday she suddenly said she thought she would go to Church again, and when she came back she had been crying. After that she scarcely ever missed going: once each Sunday. And sometimes at night, when we were waiting and watching for father to come home, she would let me read the Bible to her. I was so glad that Asaph was away at school, and I did dread his coming home at Christmas, and seeing what father was come to. It would be so terribly bad for him, I thought. But a change came before Christmas, sudden and unexpected. CHAPTER XVII. THE END. ONE evening, about ten days before Christmas, mother and I were waiting, as we so often did, for father's return. It was earlier than he commonly came back, so we did not expect him yet. I had been reading to mother the fifteenth of John, and she said she did wish she had cared more for such things. She thought, if she had, she would be happier. And I said it wasn't too late, for God was always willing to answer if we asked Him. And then, all at once, there was a great noise and banging at the front door. I went out to see what it was, and some men came in, carrying a helpless body. I remember shivering with the old feeling of horror and dread, not of fear. I thought he had taken too much again. And so he had, but that was not all. He had fallen into a cellar, and was very much hurt. The men spoke as if they scarcely knew whether he still breathed. It was terrible indeed. I called mother, and she shrieked and wrung her hands and seemed half beside herself. There was no learning particulars at first. Father was carried upstairs, and laid on the bed, and one of the men went off for a doctor. Father lay quite quiet and senseless, not even moaning. Dickenson, our former neighbour, was one of those who had come, and I took him aside, and asked how it had all happened. He could not tell me very much. Partly from what he had seen, and partly from what had been told him, he knew that father had been with Mr. Simmons in the billiard-room, and that they had been playing for money, and that father seemed to lose over and over again and was very much excited, while Mr. Simmons seemed trying to soothe him. Then the two went into another room, and drink was called for, and father became still more excited. He seemed trying to get up a quarrel with Mr. Simmons, and he said over and over again that Mr. Simmons had ruined him.