golden curls with a still more golden hue. Sadly over him Lenora bent,
saying, "Willie, Willie, wake up, Willie. Don't you know me?"

Greatly Mrs. Hamilton marveled whence came the cup of water which
stood there, as if reproaching her for her cruelty. But the delirious
words of the dreamer soon told her all. "Maggie, Maggie," he said,
"rub my feet; they feel like Carrie's face. The curbstone was cold,
but the water was so good. Give me more, more; mother won't care, for
I got it myself, and tried not to breathe, so she could sleep--and
Carrie, too, is dead--dead."

Lenora fiercely grasped her mother's arm, and said, "How could you
refuse him water, and sleep while he got it himself?"

But Mrs. Hamilton needed not that her daughter should accuse her.
Willie had been her favorite, and the tears which she dropped upon his
pillow were genuine. The physician who was called pronounced his
disease to be scarlet fever, saying that its violence was greatly
increased by a severe cold which he had taken.

"You have killed him, mother; you have killed him!" said Lenora.

Twenty-four hours had passed since, with straining ear, Carrie had
listened for the morning train, and again down the valley floated the
smoke of the engine, and over the blue hills echoed the loud scream of
the locomotive; but no sound could awaken the fair young sleeper,
though Willie started, and throwing up his hands, one of which, the
right one, was firmly clinched, murmured, "Maggie, Maggie."

Ten minutes more and Margaret was there, weeping in agony over the