to. Your father has a right to do
what he chooses with his own, and I shall see that he exercises that
right, too."

So saying she left the room, while Carrie, again bursting into tears,
wept until perfectly exhausted. The next morning she was attacked with
bleeding at the lungs, which in a short time reduced her so low that
the physician spoke doubtfully of her recovery, should the hemorrhage
again return. In the course of two or three days she was again
attacked; and now, when there was no longer hope of life, her thoughts
turned with earnest longings toward her absent father and sister, and
once, as the physician was preparing to leave her, she said, "Doctor,
tell me truly, can I live twenty-four hours?"

"I think you may," was the answer.

"Then I shall see them, for if you telegraph to-night they can come in
the morning train. Go yourself and have it done, will you?"

The physician promised that he would, and then left the room. In the
hall he met Mrs. Hamilton, who with the utmost anxiety depicted upon
her countenance, said, "Dear Carrie is leaving us, isn't she? I have
telegraphed for her father, who will be here in the morning. 'Twas
right to do so, was it not?"

"Quite right," answered the physician. "I promised to see to it
myself, and was just going to do so."

"Poor child," returned Mrs. Hamilton, "she feels anxious, I suppose.
But I have saved you the trouble."

The reader will not, perhaps, be greatly surprised to learn that what
Mrs. Hamilton had said was false. She suspected that one reason why
Carrie so greatly desired to see her father was to tell him what she
had heard, and beg of him to undo what he had done; and as she feared
the effect which the sight and words of his dying child might have
upon him, she resolved, if possible, to keep him away until Carrie's
voice was hushed in death. Overhearing what had been said by the
doctor, she resorted to the stratagem of which we have just spoken.
The next morning, however, she ordered a telegram to be despatched,
knowing full well that her husband could not reach home until the day
following.

Meantime, as the hour for the morning train drew near, Carrie, resting
upon pillows, and whiter than the linen which covered them, strained
her ears to catch the first sound of the locomotive. At last, far off
through an opening among the hills, was heard a rumbling noise, which
increased each moment in loudness, until the puffing engine shot out
into the