moments after, when she was seated at her husband's bedside.

"Yes, yes; give me my composing draught--the opium--anything to
relieve me," answered the suffering man.

His wife obeyed, and after his groaning and restlessness had ceased,
she said:

"I want to talk to you, Mark. Can you listen now?"

A nodded assent gave her permission to proceed.

"Do you not think it would be as well for you to express your wishes
with regard to the disposition of your stocks and other effects? You
may outlive me, Mark, and this thing not be necessary, still I think
it better to attend to such business," said Mrs. Brownson, closely
watching the effect her words might have on the sufferer.

She had feared possibly they might shock him severely, but depending
much on the favorable influence of the opiate, she had ventured on the
business she considered so important.

A look of satisfaction replaced the anxiety of a moment before. She
had no longer cause for fear. Calmly Mark Brownson heard her
suggestion, and said, in a feeble voice:

"What have I to will?"

"Why, dear, you forget. Your long sickness and the opium--no wonder!
There is the stock in the 'Liverpool Steamship Company,' and that in