to come and get me to sleep with the old lullaby she used to sing
when I was a little child."

No gift bestowed that day was so precious to Christie as the joy of
carrying this loving message from daughter to mother. How Mrs.
Carrol received it need not be told. She would have gone at once,
but Christie begged her to wait till rest and quiet, after the
efforts of the day, had prepared Helen for an interview which might
undo all that had been done if too hastily attempted.

Hester always waited upon her child at night; so, feeling that she
might be wanted later, Christie went to her own room to rest. Quite
sure that Mrs. Carrol would come to tell her what had passed, she
waited for an hour or two, then went to ask of Hester how the visit
had sped.

"Her mamma came up long ago, but the dear thing was fast asleep, so
I wouldn't let her be disturbed, and Mrs. Carrol went away again,"
said the old woman, rousing from a nap.

Grieved at the mother's disappointment, Christie stole in, hoping
that Helen might rouse. She did not, and Christie was about to leave
her, when, as she bent to smooth the tumbled coverlet, something
dropped at her feet. Only a little pearl-handled penknife of
Harry's; but her heart stood still with fear, for it was open, and,
as she took it up, a red stain came off upon her hand.

Helen's face was turned away, and, bending nearer, Christie saw how
deathly pale it looked in the shadow of the darkened room. She
listened at her lips; only a faint flutter of breath parted them;