There was something in Malina’s face that frightened her companion from the apathy that had for days settled on her spirits. She arose, without a word, and was led down stairs, and into the hall. It was empty. Old Mr. Mosier had departed, and the front door was left open behind him. “Phebe,” said Malina Gray, in a faint whisper, “_he_ is dying, and has sent for you—his father sat there, but a moment since. Our mother has refused that you should see him. He is pining to die with his head against your heart. Sister, will you go?” “I will plead with her—kneel to her,” said Phebe Gray, and opening the parlor door, she entered alone. Malina paused an instant, and turning through a side door, passed across a small clover lot, toward the stables. A horse stood cropping the white blossoms in a corner of the field. She looked around for some one to help her, but the men were all away on the upper farm—so she drew toward the gentle animal, and beckoning with her hand, uttered a few coaxing words, and persuaded him toward the stables. He bent his neck while her trembling hands placed the bit in his mouth, which was yet half full of fragrant grass, and turned his head to watch her, as she girded the saddle to his back. When she tied him to the garden fence, and entered the house again, he followed her with his eyes, and, with a short neigh, fell to tearing with his mouth the honeysuckle vines that crept along the fence. As Malina entered the hall she saw Phebe gliding up stairs toward their room; she was walking feebly, and held by the bannister as she went. When the sisters stood within the chamber together, Phebe sunk to a chair, while Malina looked earnestly in her face, and uttered a single sentence— “Will you go?” “She has forbidden it,” replied Phebe, faintly. “Will you go?” said Malina, once more. “I dare not disobey her!” Phebe spoke with difficulty, and clasping both hands over her face, moaned as if in pain, for the struggle within her heart was terrible. When Phebe became sufficiently composed to look up, her sister was gone. She was glad to be alone, and creeping toward the bed, knelt down and prayed. Malina had snatched a bonnet and shawl from the bed while her sister’s face was concealed, and gliding down stairs into the open air, she mounted the horse and rode away.