tter?"

"Maybe my father's sick, mother," said little Atty; "sure, father, if
you are, I an' the rest will go out ourselves, an' you can stay at home;
but we needn't go this day, for my mammy brought us as much as will put
us over it."

To neither the mother nor child did he make any reply; but wept on and
sobbed as if his heart would break.

"Oh my God, my God," he exclaimed bitterly, "what have I brought you to,
my darlin' wife and childre, that I loved a thousand times betther than
my own heart? Oh, what have I brought you to?"

"Art," said his wife, and her eye kindled, "in the name of the heavenly
God, is this sorrow for the life you led?"

"Ah, Margaret darlin'," he said, still sobbing; "it's long since I ought
to a felt it; but how can I look back on that woful life? Oh my God, my
God! what have I done, an' what have I brought on you!"

"Art," she said, "say to me that you're sorry for it; only let my ears
hear you saying the words."

"Oh, Margaret dear," he sobbed, "from my heart--from the core of my
unhappy heart--I am sorry--sorry for it all."

"Then there's hope," she exclaimed, clasping her hands, and looking up
to heaven, "there is hope--for him--for him--for us all! Oh my heart,"
she exclaimed, quickly, "what is this?" and she scarcely uttered the
words, when she sank upon the ground insensible--sudden joy being
sometimes as dangerous as sudden grief.

Art, who now forgot his own sorrow in apprehension for her, raised her
up, assisted by little Atty, who, as did the rest of the children, cried
bitterly, on seeing his mother's eyes shut, her arms hanging lifelessly
by her side, and herself without motion. Water, however, was brought
by Atty; her face sprinkled, and a little put to her lips, and with
difficulty down her throat. At length she gave a long deep-drawn sigh,
and opening her eyes, she looked tenderly into her husband's face--

"Art dear," she said, in a feeble voice, "did I hear it right? And you
said you were sorry?"

"From my heart I am, Margaret dear," he replied; "oh, if you knew what I
feel this minute!"

She looked on him again, and her pale face was lit up with a smile of
almost ineffable happiness.

"Kiss me," said she; "we are both young yet, Art dear, and we will gain
our lost ground wanst more."

While she spoke, the tears of delight fell in torrents down her cheeks.
Art kissed her tenderly, and immediately pulling out the medal, showed
it to her.

She took the medal