He did not hear the reply, which was uttered in a lower tone. But the question, asked with such an expression of affectionate interest as it was, made his heart bound with a tender impulse. At the same time, his hand, which had just sought, in his pocket, the vial containing the fatal drug, was slowly withdrawn without accomplishing the mission upon which it had been sent. “Has father come home yet?” He could not get the words out of his ears, nor the loving tones in which they were uttered. “God bless the child!” he murmured, as thoughts of her and all she had done to lighten the burdens he had been called upon to bear, pressed themselves upon his mind. His meditated purpose was gone. He could not effect it then; that was impossible. The tones of his daughter’s voice had filled his mind with her presence, and in that presence he could not consummate the dreadful act he had meditated. A few moments only passed, before there was a gentle tap at his door. To his reluctant “come in,” Eunice entered, and approached her father, who was seated in a remote part of the room. The expression of his face startled her. It was deeply depressed, but there was in it something more than depression. “Dear father!” she said, as she drew close to his side, “you are in trouble. I have seen it for some time. Has all gone wrong again? Have your efforts failed?” “Yes,” he replied, speaking with great bitterness, “all has gone wrong, and this hour I am a beggar!” Eunice could with difficulty refrain from abandoning herself to tears at this announcement, made in such a despairing voice. But, by an effort, she controlled herself, and stood, for some time, silent by the side of her father. She could not trust herself to speak for more than the space of a minute. At last, she said, “Others have met with as great misfortunes, and have passed through them; and so can we. Keep a brave heart, father; all will yet be well! It is possible for us to live at far less than our present expense. We can be just as happy in a smaller house; just as happy on a greatly reduced income.” “But all is gone, Eunice! I have nothing. By a failure that occurred in the city, a short time ago, I lost every dollar that I had. And now I am done! To struggle is hopeless!” “Oh, say not that!” replied Eunice, with energy. “Say not that! The darkest hour is just before the break of day. Hopeless? Oh, no! There is no condition in life so depressed that hopelessness need accompany it. How truly has it been said, that ‘despair is never quite despair.’ In this last and severest of all your trials, while every thing is dark around you, let me say, be of good cheer. We will stand by your side; we will hold up your hands; we will be cheerful in all extremities--nay, more, we will work with our own hands, if need be; others have to do it, and it will be no harder for us.” In her enthusiasm, the beautiful face of the girl became almost radiant, and her father felt her presence like that of an angel.