nd leans
nearer to her father.

Joe shakes his head, and poor Mary drops back upon her pillow with a
sigh. Her lids fall, and the long lashes lie strongly relieved on her
colorless cheeks.

"I won't go there to-night, dear. So let your heart be at rest."

Mary's lids unclose, and two round drops, released from their clasp,
glide slowly over her face.

"Thank you, father--thank you. Mother will be so glad."

The eyes closed again; and the father moved uneasily. His heart is
touched. There is a struggle within him. It is on his lips to say that
he will never drink at the "Sickle and Sheaf" again; but resolution
just lacks the force of utterance.

"Father!"

"Well, dear?"

"I don't, think I'll be well enough to go out in two or three days. You
know the doctor said that I would have to keep very still, for I had a
great deal of fever."

"Yes, poor child."

"Now, won't you promise me one thing?"

"What is it, dear?"

"Not to go out in the evening until I get well."

Joe Morgan hesitated.

"Just promise me that, father. It won't be long; I shall be up again in
a little while."

How well the father knows what is in the heart of his child. Her fears
are all for him. Who is to go up after her poor father, and lead him
home when the darkness of inebriety is on his spirit, and external
perception so dulled that not skill enough remains to shun the harm
that lies in his path?

"Do promise just that, father, dear."

He cannot resist the pleading voice and look. "I promise it, Mary; so
shut your eyes now and go to sleep. I'm afraid this fever will
increase."

"Oh! I'm so glad--so glad!"

Mary does not clasp her hands, nor show strong external signs of
pleasure; but how full of a pure, unselfish joy is that low-murmured
ejaculation, spoken in the depths of her spirit, as well as syllabled
by her tongue!

Mrs. Morgan has been no unconcerned witness of all this; but knowing
the child's influence over her father, she has not ventured a word.
More was to be gained, she was sure, by silence on her part; and so she
kept silent. Now she comes nearer to them, and says, as she lets a hand
rest on the shoulder of her husband:

"You feel better for that promise already; I know you do."

He looks up to her, and smiles faintly. He does feel better, but is
hardly willing to acknowledge it.

Soon after Mary is sleeping. It does not escape the observation of Mrs.
Morgan that her husband grows restless; for he gets up