"Sir! Do you wish to murder your child?"

Mr. Howland felt the rebuke, yet did not his eyes sink for a moment
beneath the steady gaze of the physician, who, after a moment's
reflection, added--

"Pray, sir, don't speak to your child in this way at the present
time. It may be as much as his life is worth. If he have done wrong,
his punishment has been severe enough, Heaven knows! How is his
mother?"

"Better. She has recovered from her faintness," replied Mr. Howland.

The door opened while he was yet speaking, and Mrs. Howland came in,
looking pale and agitated. The physician raised his finger to enjoin
prudence, and then turning to Andrew said, in a cheerful voice,

"Here is your mother, my boy."

Mrs. Howland came quickly to the bedside. As she bent over to kiss
the white-faced sufferer, the child sobbed out--

"Oh mother!--dear mother!"

The mother's frame quivered under the pressure of intense feeling,
and she was on the eve of losing all self-control, when the
physician whispered in her ear.

"Be calm, madam--the life of your child may depend on it!"