“Dear mother, I submit.  Obedience to your commands certainly ought not to lead me astray; yet I feel that I stand at the cross-roads, longing to turn and flee from the way whither your finger points.  I have no hope of accomplishing any good, and nothing but humiliation can result from the experiment; but I will go.  Sometimes I believe; that fate maliciously hunts up the things we most bitterly abhor, and one by one sets them down before us—­labelled Duty.  When do you wish me to start?”

“To-night, at nine o’clock.  In the letter which you will take to father, I have told him our destitution; and that the money spent for your railway ticket has been obtained by the sacrifice of the diamonds and pearls, that were set around my mother’s picture; that cameo, which he had cut in Rome and framed in Paris.  Beryl so much depends on the impression you make upon him, that you must guard your manner against haughtiness.  Try to be patient, my daughter, and if he should seem harsh, do not resent his words.  He is old now, and proud and bitter, but he once had a tender love for me.  I was his idol, and when my child pleads, he will relent.”

Mrs. Brentano laid her thin hot fingers on her daughter’s hands, drawing her down to the edge of the bed; and Beryl saw she was quivering with nervous excitement.

“Compose yourself, mother, or you will be so ill that I cannot leave you.  Dr. Grantlin impressed upon us, the necessity of keeping your nervous system quiet.  Take your medicine now, and try to sleep until I come back from Stephen & Endicott’s.”

“Do not go to-day.”

“I must.  Those porcelain types were promised for a certain day, and they should be packed in time for the afternoon express going to Boston.”

“Beryl.”

“Well, mother?”

“Come nearer to me.  Give me your hand.  My heart is so oppressed by dread, that I want you to promise me something, which I fancy will lighten my burden.  Life is very uncertain, and if I should die, what would become of my Bertie?  Oh, my boy! my darling, my first born!  He is so impulsive, so headstrong; and no one but his mother could ever excuse or forgive his waywardness.  Although younger, you are in some respects, the strongest; and I want your promise that you will always be patient and tender with him, and that you will shield him from evil, as I have tried to do.  His conscience of course, is not sensitive like yours—­because you know, a boy’s moral nature is totally different from a girl’s; and like most of his sex, Bertie has no religious instincts bending him always in the right direction.  Women generally have to supply conscientious scruples for men, and you can take care of your brother, if you will.  You are unusually brave and strong, Beryl, and when I am gone, you must stand between him and trouble.  My good little girl, will you?”

The large luminous eyes that rested upon the flushed face of the invalid, filled with a mist of yearning compassionate tenderness, and taking her mother’s hands, Beryl laid the palms together, then stooping nearer, kissed her softly.