e,
Oh, tarry not too long!"'

'I'm no hero, never can be, and "fame and life" can't do much for me.
Never mind, read me that paper, please. This knock on the head has made
a regular fool of me.'

Dan's voice was gentle; but the light was gone out of his face now, and
he moved restlessly as if the silken pillows were full of thorns. Seeing
that his mood had changed, Bess quietly put down the book, took up the
paper, and glanced along the columns for something to suit him.

'You don't care for the money market, I know, nor musical news. Here's
a murder; you used to like those; shall I read it? One man kills
another--,'

'No!'

Only a word, but it gave Mrs Jo a thrill, and for a moment she dared not
glance at the tell-tale mirror. When she did Dan lay motionless with one
hand over his eyes, and Bess was happily reading the art news to ears
that never heard a word. Feeling like a thief who has stolen something
very precious, Mrs Jo slipped away to her study, and before long Bess
followed to report that Dan was fast asleep.

Sending her home, with the firm resolve to keep her there as much as
possible, Mother Bhaer had an hour of serious thought all alone in the
red sunset; and when a sound in the next room led her there, she found
that the feigned sleep had become real repose; for Dan lay breathing
heavily, with a scarlet spot on either cheek, and one hand clinched on
his broad breast. Yearning over him with a deeper pity than ever before,
she sat in the little chair beside him, trying to see her way out of
this tangle, till his hand slipped down, and in doing so snapped a cord
he wore about his neck and let a small case drop to the floor.

Mrs Jo picked it up, and as he did not wake, sat looking at it, idly
wondering what charm it held; for the case was of Indian workmanship and
the broken cord, of closely woven grass, sweet scented and pale yellow.

'I won't pry into any more of the poor fellow's secrets. I'll mend and
put it back, and never let him know I've seen his talisman.'

As she spoke she turned the little wallet to examine the fracture, and
a card fell into her lap. It was a photograph, cut to fit its covering,
and two words were written underneath the face, 'My Aslauga'. For an
instant Mrs Jo fancied that it might be one of herself, for all the boys
had them; but as the thin paper fell away, she saw the picture Demi took
of Bess that happy summer day. There was no doubt now, and with a sigh
she