“You mustn’t get frightened, Larry; the doctor says there’s no danger yet, you know.” Rosie tied an apron, which she took from a nail, about her trim waist. “I’ll wash these dishes for ye,” she said. “I couldn’t get in to get your breakfast, for Aunt Ellen kept me busy.” “I burnt the steak to cinders,” said Larry forlornly, “and youse could cut the coffee in slices.” “Poor fellow!” She looked so bright, so sisterly, so helpful, that the poor, strangely circumstanced young man felt his heart go out to her in thanks. He never knew what prompted him to do it, but he leaned forward and kissed her upon the cheek. She looked up, frightened; but the expression in his eyes reassured her and the bright tears sprang to her own. And when he went into the room where Mary sat he thought she looked whiter than usual. “Hello!” he cried gladly, “Yer awake, eh?” He took her slim hand in his own strong, rough one, and it was trembling. She looked into his face strangely; for her visitors had been many since her illness and she had heard things of which she had never spoken. “D’ye feel worse?” asked he anxiously. “No! Only a little faint,” she answered. And from that day her failure was more rapid; from that day her patience, her gentleness was more marked; from that day, if the truth be known, she grew anxious to die. Chapter XIV “_Sweet came the hallowed chiming, Of the Sabbath bell, Borne on the morning breezes, Down the woody dell; On a bed of pain and anguish, Lay dear Annie Lisle, Changed were the lovely features, Gone the happy smile._” ANNIE LISLE. IT was a pleasant evening and the groups of children were playing “a ring, a ring o’roses,” in front of Clancy’s grocery. Clancy was whirling at the handle of the coffee mill; and Annie was attending to the other wants of Mrs. McGonagle, who stood at the counter. “They say that Mary do be very low,” panted the grocer. “God help uz, yis,” said Mrs. McGonagle, sorrowfully. “Your heart’d ache to see poor Larry,” remarked Annie. “That’s tea, soft soap, two cents’ worth of syrup, and a mackerel, Mrs. McGonagle, what elce?” “That’s all to-noight, barrin’ the bit av coffee. It’s a sore trial for him, poor sowl!” “He thinks the world av her, do Larry, an’ it’ll be a hard job for him till lose her.” As he spoke Clancy dumped the ground coffee into a paper bag and with deft fingers tied it up. The song of the children came through the door: “_There came two dukes a-riding, Riding, riding, There came two dukes a-riding, All on a summer’s day._” “Go ’long out av that wid yez!” shouted Clancy; but the joyous little crew sang on unheeding: “_What are ye riding here for, Here for, here for? What are ye riding here for, All on a summer’s day?_” The exact nature of the noble twain’s errand still remains a mystery, for the grocer bounced through the doorway and scattered the tots in every direction.