There were considerable odds against him, and Slade, perceiving this, turned off, muttering something that his wife did not hear, and she went on her way.  A hurried walk brought her to the wretched home of the poor drunkard, whose wife met her at the door.

“How is Mary?” was the visitor’s earnest inquiry.

Mrs. Morgan tried to answer the question; but, though her lips moved, no sounds issued therefrom.

Mrs. Slade pressed her hands tightly in both of hers; and then passed in with her to the room where the child lay.  A stance sufficed to tell Mrs. Slade that death had already laid his icy fingers upon her brow.

“How are you, dear?” she asked, as she bent over and kissed her.

“Better, I thank you!” replied Mary, in a low whisper.

Then she fixed her eyes upon her mother’s face with a look of inquiry.

“What is it, love?”

“Hasn’t father waked up yet?”

“No, dear.”

“Won’t he wake up soon?”

“He’s sleeping very soundly.  I wouldn’t like to disturb him.”

“Oh, no; don’t disturb him.  I thought, maybe, he was awake.”

And the child’s lids drooped languidly, until the long lashes lay close against her cheeks.

There was silence for a little while, and then Mrs. Morgan said in a half-whisper to Mrs. Slade: 

“Oh, we’ve had such a dreadful time with poor Joe.  He got in that terrible way again last night.  I had to go for Doctor Green and leave him all alone.  When I came back, he was in bed with Mary; and she, dear child, had her arms around his neck, and was trying to comfort him; and would you believe it, he went off to sleep, and slept in that way for a long time.  The doctor came, and when he saw how it was, left some medicine for him, and went away.  I was in such hopes that he would sleep it all off.  But about twelve o’clock he started up, and sprung out of bed with an awful scream.  Poor Mary! she too had fallen asleep.  The cry wakened her, and frightened her dreadfully.  She’s been getting worse ever since, Mrs. Slade.

“Just as he was rushing out of the room, I caught him by the arm, and it took all my strength to hold him.

“‘Father! father!’ Mary called after him as soon as she was awake enough to understand what was the matter—­’Don’t go out, father; there’s nothing here.’

“He looked back toward the bed, in a frightful way.

“‘See, father!’ and the dear child turned down the quilt and sheet, in order to convince him that nothing was in the bed.  ’I’m here,’ she added.  ’I’m not afraid.  Come, father.  If there’s nothing here to hurt me, there’s nothing to hurt you.’

“There was something so assuring in this, that Joe took a step or two toward the bed, looking sharply into it as he did so.  From the bed his eyes wandered up to the ceiling, and the old look of terror came into his face.

“‘There it is now!  Jump out of bed, quick!  Jump out, Mary!’ he cried.  ‘See! it’s right over your head.’