When morning came Mr. Alexander was too ill to rise, and feared that he was going to have a relapse of his former illness. He grew better, however, toward evening, and seemed to be so grateful for the care which his niece had given him, so repentant for the sorrow that he had brought upon her, that she was deeply touched. After a few days he appeared much stronger, and seemed greatly interested in Virgie, her work, and particularly in her little one. Still, he did not seem to be quite at his ease. “I did not mean to be such a burden upon you, Virgie,” he said, humbly, one afternoon, as she was performing some little service for him. “I do not consider you a burden. I am glad if I can make you comfortable, Uncle Mark,” she returned, kindly. “You shall not be a loser for your kindness to me,” he added, smiling. Virgie turned upon him sharply, her face flushing crimson, her eyes blazing. “Uncle Mark,” she retorted, in a clear, decided voice, “whatever I have done for you has been done from sympathy, and because I felt it my duty to minister to your needs; but I shall never receive any compensation from you—I could not. If you are as rich as you have hinted several times, I want you to right the wrong that you committed so long ago. There is much that still remains unpaid, even though the bank has long since resumed business. Many depositors lost heavily; there were several years that no interest was paid to them, and their funds were so locked up that they could not have what rightfully belonged to them, and much suffering was occasioned by it. All this—_everything_ must be paid to the uttermost farthing.” “It shall be done. I will do all that can be required of me. But, Virgie, _you_ have been the heaviest loser of all through what your father paid out for me, and that will be one of the debts to be canceled with the rest. Don’t let your pride prevent my relieving my conscience of that obligation,” said the sick man, tremulously. Virgie had not thought of the matter in that light before. Her chief desire had been to have a confession, and restitution made to the bank and all depositors, and thus clear her father from all imputation of wrong-doing. She had never reckoned herself among the number of the injured—never counted upon receiving a dollar in return for the sacrifice her father had made. To have his honor re-established, and then be able to bring his body back to rest beside her mother, would give her more joy than she ever expected to know again in this world. “Papa’s good name is more to me than all else,” she said, tearfully. “Dear child, it shall be fully restored; his honor vindicated. Oh, that he could have lived to know it! That it could not is the hardest part of my punishment. But after I have done that, you will not refuse to receive what I can offer you?” pleaded Mark Alexander, earnestly.