she had at first thought she could not pass a night comfortably.  Her children were in the room adjoining, and she could hear their little voices as they played together, or asked for their mamma and why they must not see her.  Alas! they would never see her again; she knew it now, and Guy knew it, too.  The doctor had told them so when he left them that night, and between the husband and wife words had been spoken such as are only said when hearts which have been one are about to be severed forever.

To Julia there was no terror in death, save as it took her from those she loved, her husband and her little ones, and these she had given into God’s keeping, knowing his promises are sure.  To Guy she had said: 

“You have made me so happy.  I want you to remember that when I am gone; I would not have one look or act of yours changed if I could, and yet, forgive me, Guy, for saying it, but I know you must often have thought of that other one whom, you loved first, and it may be best.”

Guy could not say no to that, but he smoothed her hair tenderly, and his tears dropped upon the scarred, swollen face he could not kiss, as Julia went on.

“But if you did you never showed it in the least, and I bless you for it.  Take good care of my children; teach them to remember their mother, and if in time there comes another in my place, and other little ones than mine call you father, don’t forget me quite, because I love you so much.  Oh, Guy, my darling, it is hard to say good-by and know that after a little this world will go on the same as if I had never been.  Don’t think I am afraid.  I am not, for Jesus is with me, and I know I am safe, but still there’s a clinging to life, which has been so pleasant to me.  Tell your sister how I loved her.  I know she will miss me and be good to my children, and if you ever meet that other one tell her—­tell her—­I—­”

The faint voice faltered here, and when it spoke again, it said: 

“Lift me up, Guy, so I can breathe better while I tell you.”

He lifted her up and held her in his arms, while through the open window the summer air and the silver moonlight streamed, and in the distance was heard the sound of music as the dance went merrily on.  And just then, when she was in the minds of both, Daisy came, and her gentle knock broke the silence of the room and startled both Guy and Julia.

Who was it that sought entrance to that death-laden and disease-poisoned room?  Not the doctor, surely, for he always entered unannounced, and who else dared to come there?  Thus Guy questioned, hesitating to answer the knock, when to his utter surprise the door opened and a little figure, clad in airy robes of white, with its bright hair wreathed with flowers and gems, came floating in, the blue eyes shining like stars and the full red lips parted with the smile, half pleased, half shy, which Guy remembered so well.

“Daisy, Daisy!” he cried, and his voice rang like a bell through the room, as, laying Julia’s head back upon the pillow, he sprang to Daisy’s side, and, taking her by the shoulder, pushed her gently toward the door, saying: