Under the shower of these reproaches, Major Wardlaw hung his head. His silence and submissiveness slightly mollified the stern young lady. Like many others of her sex, Flossie must needs scold and then be sorry for the object of her reproaches. To-night there was something in her father's looks and bearing that arrested her vehemence. Why! goodness gracious! what was the matter? "You know," she said shrewdly, looking at him as she stood between his knees with that steady gaze of youthful eyes that is often so disconcerting, "You know, if you weren't a great big man, I should say you were going to cry." "Nonsense, nonsense," her father answered, and hugged her closely in his arms. "Mind my hair," said Flossie sharply, "I'm very tired and I'm going to bed. I hope you won't be naughty any more. Promise!" He nodded with a queer look in his eyes. "_You_ look tired, too! come up early. To-morrow we'll be just the same as ever, won't we? You shall be very nice, and I shall forgive you, because, after all, I do love you, don't I?" "That's right," he said gravely. "Yes, but you're not right. I've never seen you quite like this. I'm sure there's something. Where's my book?" He picked up the story-book and she tucked it under her arm, smothering a yawn that suffused her blue eyes and showed all her pretty teeth. "Good-night; be good," she said, and kissed him. "Yes! But you've forgotten your hymn." The child looked at him searchingly. His manner puzzled her more and more. His voice seemed hardly natural; he was grave, intensely grave, yet trying to cloak his seriousness by speaking in ordinary tones. "Must I, to-night?" she asked, half closing her sleepy eyes. "Yes, dearest, please, to-night." She glanced down at the story-book under her arm, and her father understood the look. Flossie wanted to reserve her few mental energies to finish a chapter in bed. But with a little sigh of resignation, she began in drowsy tones the recitation of the hymn. The theme was resignation. Wardlaw seemed to hang upon the well-known words: "If Thou shouldst call me to resign What most I prize, it ne'er was mine; I only yield Thee what is Thine; Thy Will be done." He bowed his head. Flossie, too heavy-eyed to notice, turned away. Her father looked up quickly. "Kiss me again, darling." He held her by the arms in front of him, firmly but lightly. The child roused herself to sudden alertness. "One for you, and one for me, and one for both together. That's three!" she observed after the third kiss--"Just for a treat." His eyes followed her as she crossed the room. At the door, she turned and nodded warningly. "Something nice to-night, mind, and don't stay up too late." Wardlaw held his breath and kept his seat while Flossie went slowly, languidly, up the stairs. Then, with clenched hands and tortured eyes, he started to his feet. The last time! God in heaven, could it be truly that?