"He never was well after you went away, Miss Hester," said Alice; "all that day after Mr. Osborne left, he wandered up and down talking to himself. The most that he said, that I could hear, was, 'she will be well--she will be well;' for, dear, his heart was wrapped up in you, though he said little; and then sometimes he would take a turn, as if he was doubtful, and once I heard him say, like trying to persuade himself, 'She is not like me--she will not resent it as I would have done.' I was not spying on him to hear this, Miss Hester; but he wandered about so, wherever I was, or whatever we were doing, and never seemed to notice us, and Mary, if she had minded, might have heard as well as me. A week before you came home he took to his bed, and when I was staying in his room waiting on him, he sometimes spoke to me. God was good to him, dear, and gave him time to think, and he was not near so high, as he drew near his latter end; but, Miss Hester, you might not care to hear what your papa said to me." "Oh! tell me everything--every word, Alice," I cried. "Sometimes he would not say a word for hours--and then all at once would speak as if he thought I had been following all that was in his mind," said Alice. "In this way, all at once, he said to me, 'When she comes home, you will stay by her, Alice--let nothing persuade you to go away from her--she has no mother, no friend,' and then he did not say another word that night. Then it was again, 'She may have disappointment in her life--few are free of it--the simplest comfort is the best. Alice, you are a simple woman, you live in every day--do you bring fresh heart to comfort my child.' It looks presuming, Miss Hester, I know it does, dear. I never could have thought such things of myself; but that was what he said." "Go on--go on, Alice," said I, as well as I was able, through my tears. "Dear, there was not a great deal more; sometimes he said only your name, and 'My only child, my only child;' and then he would turn and say, 'Be sure you never leave her, Alice, she will have need of you.' I cannot think on much more; but when I went and told him you were come (it was in the night we got the news, and I was sitting up with him), he said I was to send away that moment to call you to him--and you came--and oh, darling! what a comfort all your life, that you were in time to see his latter end!" I was weeping now without restraint, leaning upon Alice. My solitude was less desolate, less miserable, when she was beside me; and I who had always prized so much my father's few tokens of tenderness, it went to my heart to hear how he had remembered me when I was away. "Do you think he knew, Alice?" I whispered; it was an unnecessary question, for I was sure he did. "He never said a word, dear; but it was not like he would tell me," said Alice. "Yes, Miss Hester, he had found it out--I knew it by his eye that very day."