mes showed their effect for the
whole subsequent day; and his mother stole away on hearing his cry,
leaving Arthur in Mr. Harding's charge, and hoping not to be missed.

Sarah was standing over Johnnie, half-coaxing, half-scolding while he
sat up in his little crib, shivering and sobbing, with chattering teeth,
and terrified exclamations about papa all over blood, lying dead under
the burning windows.

'There now, you have brought your poor mamma up!' said Sarah,
indignantly.

'Mamma, mamma!' and the cold trembling little creature clasped itself
upon her neck and bosom, still repeating the dreadful words. She carried
him to the fire, warmed him on her lap, caressed and soothed him, as his
understanding awoke, telling him that papa was safe in his own room,--he
was ill, very ill, and Johnnie must pray for him; but oh! he was alive,
safe in his own bed. But as Johnnie nestled to her, repeating, 'Say it
again, mamma, I was so frightened! I can't get it out of my head. Oh! is
papa safe?' there would come the thought that, with morning, the child
might have to hear that he was fatherless.

This dread, and the desire to efface the impression of the terrible
dream, induced her, when he had obediently struggled for composure, to
tell him that, on condition of perfect stillness, he might come down
with her, and have a little glimpse of papa. Wrapping him up, she
took him in by the open dressing-room door, to which Arthur's back
was turned, trusting to escape observation. But nothing eluded those
fever-lighted eyes, and they instantly fell upon the little trembling
figure, the quivering face and earnest gaze.

'I hope we have not disturbed you,' apologized Violet; 'we hoped you
would not hear us. Poor Johnnie woke up crying so much at your being
ill, that I ventured to bring him to have one look at you, for fear he
should not go to sleep again.'

She need not have feared. Even while she spoke Arthur held out
his hands, with a countenance that caused Johnnie, with a stifled
exclamation of 'Papa! papa!' to spring on the bed, and there he lay,
folded closely to his father's breast.

It was but for a moment. Violet had to lift the child hastily away,
to be carried off by Sarah, that he might not witness the terrible
suffering caused by the exertion and emotion; and yet, when this was
passed, she could not repent of what she had done, for one great grief
had thus been spared to herself and her boy.

She knew that to discover