“I will—I wish to do it, or rather you, the handmaid of the Lord, shall bear me up in your faithful hands, and lay me within that Arm of Strength. I wished this long ago, but, oh, my dear husband and his good mother! they thought only of restoring me to health, and I could think of nothing but of trying to live for them, until very lately, when it was revealed to me that I should surely die. I have never yet told Frank anything about this. I feared it would distress him too much; but the lone knowledge troubled me. I needed to tell some one of it, some dear one with whom I could converse confidentially, and who should be wise enough to counsel me, patient enough to bear with me, courageous enough to face the result, and who, besides, would not be too greatly distressed, as my dear husband would. And so, sweet Kate, I have told you. Will you now stay with me and nurse me?” “Yes, dear Zuleime, as long as you wish me to do so; but now, darling, if I am to be your nurse, you must mind what I have to say to you, and go to sleep.” Catherine bent over her, and kissed her eyelids down upon the weary eyes, and held her hand until she fell asleep. At night, Captain Fairfax relieved her watch. The next morning when Catherine entered the room she sat down by the side of the bed, and told her that she had good news to tell, that they had received a letter from Major Clifton, that Carolyn’s health was improving, and that they had embarked, or had purposed to embark upon the first of May, and expected to reach home as soon as the middle of June. Zuleime clasped her hands in fervent thanksgiving while she listened, and when her friend ceased to speak, she exclaimed— “In two weeks she will be here—oh! that I may live to see it!” Kate bade her be of good cheer and hope; and when Catherine told any one to hope, her words and looks and manner all inspired the feeling. Zuleime was so recovered and enlivened as to be able to be lifted from her bed and placed in the easy-chair by the open window, that looked out upon the mountain scenery, all glorious in the light of summer morning. Old Mrs. Fairfax, and Mrs. Clifton of Hardbargain, came in to pay her a visit, bringing her little girl with them. As for Captain Fairfax, he seldom left her side. All congratulated the invalid upon her improved health and spirits, and hoped and foretold great results from her residence in the country, and projected many pleasant drives, when she should be a little rested from the fatigue of her journey. Then they talked of Major Clifton and Carolyn’s expected arrival, and laid out extensive plans of amusement to be put in execution when they should come, by which time Zuleime also would be considerably restored. Thus cheerfully, hopefully they talked. And the dying one listened sweetly; but when she found herself alone again with Kate, she said—