the pain in my heart, if I only keep it there and never let Tom know. I
can make him happy, and I will."

There was no wavering after that decision--no regret for the "might have
been," but her face was white as snow, and about the pretty mouth there
was a quivering of the muscles as if the words were hard to utter when
next day she went to Tom, and, sitting down beside him, asked how he was
feeling. His eyes brightened a little when he saw her, but there was a
look on his face which made Daisy's pulse quicken with a nameless fear,
and his voice was very weak as he replied:

"They say I am better; but, Daisy, I know the time is near for me to go.
I shall never get well, nor do I wish to, though life is not a gift to
be thrown away easily, and on some accounts mine has been a happy one,
but the life beyond is better, and I feel sure I am going to it."

"Oh, Tom, Tom, don't talk so! You must not leave me now!" Daisy cried,
all her composure giving way as she fell on her knees beside him, and,
taking both his hands in hers, wet them with her tears. "Tom," she
began, when she could speak. "I have been bad to you so often, and
worried and wounded you so much; but I am sorry, so sorry, and I've
thought it all over and made up my mind, and I want you to get well and
ask me that--that--question again--you have asked so many
times--and--and--Tom--I will say--yes--to it now, and try so hard to
make you happy."

Her face was crimson as if with shame, and she dared not look at Tom
until his silence startled her. Then she stole a glance at his face and
met an expression which prompted her to go on recklessly: