side, she cried with loud, choking sobs, "Oh, Dennis--husband--I
fear--you are leaving me!"

"Is this death?" he asked of his son, in an awed tone.

"I fear it is, father," said the young man, gently.

After a moment his father said, composedly: "I think you are right.
I feel that--my end is near, Ethel--darling--for my sake--try to be
calm--during the last few moments I am with you."

A few stifled sobs and the room was still.

"I have but little time to--put my house--in order--and if I had
months--I could not do it. Dennis, I leave you--little else--than
debts--embarrassments, and the record of many failures. You must
do--the best you can. I am not able to advise you. Only never love this
world as I have. It will disappoint you. And, _whatever happens,
never lose faith in the goodness of God_. This has been my bane.
It has poisoned my life here, and, had it not been for this dear wife,
it would have been my destruction here-after. For long years--only her
patient love--has stood between me and a miserable end. Next to God--I
commit her and your little sisters to your care. Be true to this most
sacred trust.

"Ethel, dear, my more than wife--my good angel--what shall I say to
you?" and the man's lip quivered, and for a time he could say no more.
But the unwonted composure had come into his wife's manner. The eyes
were gaining that intent look which was their expression when picturing
to herself scenes in the life beyond.