o stay there and be still, and he would bring her something
good when he came home.

The day was strangely long and quiet to Nettie. Instead of going to
school and flying about at home doing all sorts of things, she lay on
the bed and followed her mother with her eyes as she moved about the
room at her work. The eyes often met Mrs. Mathieson's eyes; and once
Nettie called her mother to her bedside.

"Mother, what is the matter with you?"

Mrs. Mathieson stood still, and had some trouble to speak. At last she
told Nettie she was sorry to see her lying there and not able to be up
and around.

"Mother," said Nettie, expressively,--"'There is rest for the weary.'"

"O Nettie," said her mother, beginning to cry,--"you are all I have
got!--my blessed one!"

"Hush, mother," said Nettie; "_I_ am not your blessed one,--you forget;
and I am not all you have got. Where is Jesus, mother? O mother, 'rest
in the Lord!'"

"I don't deserve to," said Mrs. Mathieson, trying to stop her tears.

"I feel very well," Nettie went on; "only weak, but I shall be well
directly. And I am so happy, mother. Wont you go on and get dinner? and
mother, just do that;--'rest in the Lord.'"

Nettie was not able to talk much, and Mrs. Mathieson checked herself and
went on with her work, as she begged. When her father came home at night
he was as good as his word, and brought home some fresh oysters, that he
thought would tempt Nettie's appetite; but it was much more to her that
he stayed quietly at home and never made a move toward going out. Eating
was not in Nettie's line just now; the little kind Frenchwoman had been
to see her in the course of the day and brought some delicious rolls and
a jug of _riz-au-gras_, which was what seemed to suit Nettie's appetite
best of all.

CHAPTER VIII.

THE GOLDEN CITY.

Several days went on; she did not feel sick, and she was a little
stronger; but appetite and colour were wanting. Her father would not let
her do anything; he would not let her go up to her garret to sleep,
though Nettie pleaded for it, fearing he must be uncomfortable. He said
it was fitter for him than for her, though he made faces about it. He
always came home and stayed at home now, and especially attended to
Nettie; his wages came home too, and he brought every day something to
try to tempt her to eat; and he was quiet and grave and kind--not the
same person.

Mrs. Mathieson in the midst of all her distress about Nettie b