"Hush, father. Don't tell her. I only said it to you." And Mary put a finger on her lips, and looked mysterious. "There, mother--you go away; you've got trouble enough, any how. Don't tell her, father." But the words, which came to him like a prophecy, awoke such pangs of fear and remorse in the heart of Joe Morgan, that it was impossible for him to repress the signs of pain. For some moments he gazed at his wife--then stooping forward, suddenly, he buried his face in the bed-clothes, and sobbed bitterly. A suggestion of the truth now flashed through the mind of Mrs. Morgan, sending a thrill of pain along every nerve. Ere she had time to recover herself, the low, sweet voice of Mary broke upon the hushed air of the room, and she sung: "Jesus can make a dying bed Feel soft as downy pillows are, While on His breast I lean my head, And breathe my life out, sweetly, there." It was impossible for Mrs. Morgan longer to repress her feelings. As the softly breathed strain died away, her sobs broke forth, and for a time she wept violently. "There," said the child,--"I didn't mean to tell you. I only told father, because--because he promised not to go to the tavern any more until I got well; and I'm not going to get well. So, you see, mother, he'll never go again--never--never--never. Oh, dear! how my head pains. Mr. Slade threw it so hard. But it didn't strike father; and I'm so glad. How it would have hurt him--poor father! But he'll never go there any more; and that will be so good, won't it, mother?" A light broke over her face; but seeing that her mother still wept, she said: "Don't cry. Maybe I'll be better." And then her eyes closed heavily, and she slept again. "Joe," said Mrs. Morgan, after she had in a measure recovered herself--she spoke firmly--"Joe, did you hear what she said?" Morgan only answered with a groan. "Her mind wanders; and yet she may have spoken only the truth." He groaned again. "If she should die, Joe--" "Don't; oh, don't talk so, Fanny. She's not going to die. It's only because she's a little light-headed." "Why is she light-headed, Joe?" "It's the fever--only the fever, Fanny." "It was the blow, and the wound on her head, that caused the fever. How do we know the extent of injury on the brain? Doctor Green looked very serious. I'm afraid, husband, that the worst is before us. I've borne and suffered a great deal--only God knows how much--I pray that I may have strength to bear this trial also. Dear child! She is better fitted for heaven than for earth, and it may be that God is about to take her to Himself. She's been a great comfort to me--and to you, Joe, more like a guardian angel than a child." Mrs. Morgan had tried to speak very firmly; but as sentence followed sentence, her voice lost more and more of its even tone. With the closing words all self-control vanished; and she wept bitterly. What could her feeble, erring husband do, but weep with her?