until daylight dawned to earn bread for her child! The songs she used to sing softly to herself came to my lips, and I murmured them almost unconsciously, while the tears ran from my eyes. My heart was throbbing with exquisite tenderness towards my mother, and I thought that never in all my reading had I met with a woman so thoroughly good and pure and true. I covered my eyes with my hand to shut out the aching fear that, with the force of a visible presence, was creeping upon me and whispering that the priceless blessing of her love was lost to me for ever; but the action brought a deeper darkness to my soul. It lasted but a moment, thank God! for suddenly my name was uttered in a soft clear tone. 'Chris!' My heart almost ceased to beat as the sound of my mother's voice, with its old sweet cadence, fell upon my ear; but I remembered the caution which the doctor had given me, and I quietly proceeded with my work. 'Yes, mother.' 'What are you doing, dear child?' 'Working, mother.' I scarcely dared to raise my eyes, and I waited anxiously for her to speak again. 'It is late, my child.' 'Not very, mother. The night was so beautiful, and I had such a long rest this morning, that I thought I would work for an hour or two upon some pictures I have to get done quickly.' I spoke calmly and softly and cheerfully. 'I thought you were asleep, mother.' 'I have lain for some time watching you, my darling, and wondering whether this was not all a dream.' 'A dream, mother!' I said, and I went to her side, and passed my arm under her neck. 'No, it is not a dream.' She gazed at me long and earnestly. 'Where are we, dear child?' 'In the country, at Hertford. You were not very well, and I brought you down here to nurse you into health again.' She pondered over these words. 'You were singing my songs, my dearest' 'I hope they did not disturb you, mother.' 'What sweeter music could I hear, dear child? But what made you sing them?' 'I was thinking of the old times, mother, when you and I were together, and when you used to work late in the night for me. There was a prayer in my heart while I was singing.' 'What prayer, my dearest?' 'That I might be able to repay you by my love for the love you have given me all my life. That God would be merciful to me, and would give me the power to show you that I love you with all my heart and soul, and to prove that as no son ever had a more loving mother than you have been to me, so no mother ever had a son who was filled with a deeper love than I have for you.' 'Dear child! darling child!' she said, with deep-drawn sighs of happiness, what can I say to you for your goodness to me? I do not deserve it! I do not deserve it!' She folded me in her arms, and I lay by her side with my face pressed close to hers. 'If you say that, mother, I shall think you do not believe me.' 'No, no, dear child, I do believe it. These are tears of joy that I am shedding. And we two are alone, darling!'