"Honey boy, th'ain't room for so many at once. And it ain't your last anything; you' going to get well." His eyes closed, his brows knit. The tearful mother rose and looked at her. The glance was kind, yet remorse tore the girl's heart again. "Go," said her mother. "Joy, she'll go with you. Bring the three." "My last"--the boy whispered on--"last chance--to do some'--something worthy of"--he faintly smiled to his mother--"of Gideon's Band." The door opened and closed and the two were alone. At his sign she knelt, took his clammy hand, and bent close that he might flutter out his hurried words with least effort. "She sang it finely!" he whispered. "She'd 'a' known we heard it if she'd 'a' thought. Wish you'd sing a verse of it. It's a hymn, you know--or was. The chorus is--yet. Anyhow, it's our song. Oh, I'd like to live on and be a real true Hayle--a Gideon! I hope--hope Hugh Courteney'll--live. Just think! he was on the _Quakeress_ when Uncle Dan--.... He's going to do big things some day. Mother--want to tell you something." She bent closer. He whispered on: "I wish Hugh Courteney'd live and--marry sis'." His eyes reclosed and the mother drew back, but he whispered on with lids unlifted: "Sing--a verse or two--or just the chorus, won't you?" As softly as to an infant fallen asleep she sang, in her Creole accent, with eyes streaming: "Do you billong to Gideon' ban'? Yere's my 'eart an' yere's my 'an'." Outside, meantime, before old Joy had quite left the closed door, another, the second aft of it, opened and the texas tender stepped out. A fellow servant within shut it, and he started for a near-by stair, but checked up, amazed, to let Ramsey hasten on for the same point. But Ramsey halted. "How's the bishop?" she asked him. "Good Lawd!" he gasped, and then tittered at himself. "I ax yo' pahdon, miss, I _neveh_ know de Hayles twins 'uz _double_ twins, male 'n' female. You ax me----?" "The bishop; how is he now?" "Well, Miss Hayles--you is Miss Hayles, ain't you? Yit, my Lawd! miss, ain't I dess now see you down in de cabin a-playin' in de play, an' a hund'ed people sayin': '_'tis_ her, 'cose it is'?" "Humph! no, I left as the curtain rose. How's the----?" "Bishop? Oh, de bishop, he, eh--'bout five-six minute' ago--aw it mowt be ten--whilse I 'uz down dah--de bishop--I'm bleeds to say--breave his las'." "While I--!" She tossed both arms. "Ummmm, hmmmm!" droned old Joy; "gone to glory!" "Yass, de good bishop gone to his good bishop!" "Oh, who was with him?" cried the girl. "Why, eh"--the three moved on their way--"de doctoh, he 'uz dah, and de bofe sis' o' charity; yass'm." "The commodore--wasn't?--Nor the senator--nor----?" "Oh, yass'm, de commodo', he 'uz dah--faw a spell. He didn' stay till de--finish. He couldn'. He git slightly indispose', hisseff, an' have to go to his own room." The nurse made a meek show of despair and Ramsey turned upon her. "Now, mammy, this is no time--_now--don't--cry_."