beneath his pressure, and whose eyes, beaming with affection, were
uplifted to his.

"Not here, don't sit down here," she cried, resisting his impulse
to rest at the head of the stairs. "I have got a fire--the room is
warm--just five steps more--don't stop till then!"

He moved on, attempting to smile, though his lips were blue and his
emaciated limbs shivered painfully.

"There, sit down, father: I borrowed this rocking-chair of Mrs. Ford;
isn't it nice? Let me put the pillow behind your head. Are you very
sick, father?"

His lips quivered out, "Yes, very!"

She stooped down and kissed his forehead, then knelt by his side and
kissed his hands, also, with such reverential affection.

"Oh, father, father, how sorry I am; you will stay with us--you will
stay at home now--they have let you grow worse at the hospital; but
I--your own little girl--see if I don't make you well. You will not
go to Bellevue again, father."

"No, I shall never go back again; the doctors can do nothing for me,
but I could not die without seeing you again--that wish was stronger
than death."

"Oh, father, don't."