Mrs. Thompson did not reply, but presently turned towards the little chamber where her husband had deposited Maggie; and, pushing open the door, went quietly in.  Joe did not follow; he saw that, her state had changed, and felt that it would be best to leave her alone with the child.  So he went to his shop, which stood near the house, and worked until dusky evening released him from labor.  A light shining through the little chamber windows was the first object that attracted Joe’s attention on turning towards the house:  it was a good omen.  The path led him by this windows and, when opposite, he could not help pausing to look in.  It was now dark enough outside to screen him from observation.  Maggie lay, a little raised on the pillow with the lamp shining full upon her face.  Mrs. Thompson was sitting by the bed, talking to the child; but her back was towards the window, so that her countenance was not seen.  From Maggie’s face, therefore, Joe must read the character of their intercourse.  He saw that her eyes were intently fixed upon his wife; that now and then a few words came, as if in answers from her lips; that her expression was sad and tender; but he saw nothing of bitterness or pain.  A deep-drawn breath was followed by one of relief, as a weight lifted itself from his heart.

On entering, Joe did not go immediately to the little chamber.  His heavy tread about the kitchen brought his wife somewhat hurriedly from the room where she had been with Maggie.  Joe thought it best not to refer to the child, nor to manifest any concern in regard to her.

“How soon will supper be ready?” he asked.

“Right soon,” answered Mrs. Thompson, beginning to bustle about.  There was no asperity in her voice.

After washing from his hands and face the dust and soil of work, Joe left the kitchen, and went to the little bedroom.  A pair of large bright eyes looked up at him from the snowy bed; looked at him tenderly, gratefully, pleadingly.  How his heart swelled in his bosom!  With what a quicker motion came the heart-beats!  Joe sat down, and now, for the first time, examining the thin free carefully under the lamp light, saw that it was an attractive face, and full of a childish sweetness which suffering had not been able to obliterate.

“Your name is Maggie?” he said, as he sat down and took her soft little hand in his.

“Yes, sir.”  Her voice struck a chord that quivered in a low strain of music.

“Have you been sick long?”

“Yes, sir.”  What a sweet patience was in her tone!

“Has the doctor been to see you?”

“He used to come.”

“But not lately?”

“No, sir.”

“Have you any pain?”

“Sometimes, but not now.”

“When had you pain?”

“This morning my side ached, and my back hurt when you carried me.”

“It hurts you to be lifted or moved about?”

“Yes, sir.”