"Poor papa, you are tired, and it's very, very kind of you to come
and stay with me, but I wasn't afraid. Clara says it's a respectable
house, and the people, though very poor, are quiet and well behaved.
Now that you have seen that we are safe, please go home and rest,"
and she coaxed until he complied, more from fear that he would
betray himself than from any other motive.

In the deep hush that falls on even a great city before the early
life of the next day begins, Mrs. Bute opened her eyes and called,
"Clara!"

"Right here, momsy, dear, holding your hand."

"It's strange--I can't see you--I feel so much better, too--sort
of rested. It does--seem now--as if I--might get--a little rest.
Don't wake me--child--to give me--anything--and rest yourself."

She smiled faintly as she closed her eyes, and very soon Clara could
never wake her again. Mildred took the head of the orphan into her
lap, and the poor girl at last sobbed herself to sleep.

We will not attempt to follow Mildred's thoughts as she tried to
keep up through the long hours. The murmured words, "I would watch
more patiently over Vinton Arnold, did not his proud mother stand
between us," suggests the character of some of them. At last, when
she was faint from weariness, she heard steps coming up the stairs,
and her mother entered, followed by Mrs. Wheaton.

"My dear, brave child, this is too much for you. I'd rather it had