couch, caught the
little white hand--ah! terribly thin and white now--in his, and raised
it to his lips.

"Did you wish me to sit with you, Jessie?" he said. "Or would you like
me to read to you?"

"No; I want to talk to you, Jack," she said, with a little quiver in her
voice.

"Have you ever thought how near it is to--to our wedding-day, Jack," she
whispered, faintly.

"Yes," said Jack, with never a thought of what was coming.

"What--what would you do if I were still ill when it dawned?"

"The ceremony could be performed just the same," he answered, promptly.
"There would be no wedding at the church, no invited guests; that would
be all the difference."

"Would you wish to marry me if--if you knew that I would never be well
again, and that perhaps death would be hovering very, very near to claim
me, and to part me from you?"

"I will keep to my part of the compact, Jessie," he said, huskily.

"But what if I should die before it, Jack?" she questioned, faintly.

"I do not know what you mean, Jessie," he said, gravely--"what you are
trying to get at."

"Oh, Jack! I mean this: I--I want to belong to you in life and in death.
I do not want you to have any other love but me, even if I should be
taken from you. I want you to be true to me forever. I could not rest in
my grave, though they burled me fathoms deep, if you ever called
another--wife! If I am to die, Jack, you must promise me one
thing--that you will never wed--another!"

"How can you talk of such a thing, my dear Jessie?" he said,
reproachfully. "You pain me beyond measure."

"You will give me that promise, will you not, Jack?" she pleaded. "The
pangs of death will be easier to bear if my mind is but at rest on that
subject."

"You are going to get well soon, and the ceremony will take place as we
have arranged," he said, soothingly; but she shook her head.

"If I should not, Jack," she whispered, fixing her burning eyes
wistfully on his face, "let me have the assurance from your lips that
you will never, never put another in my place."

"If it will settle any doubts in your mind, I give you the promise that
you ask," he answered, in a low, grave voice; and it was worth that
promise to see the girl's pale face light up with a swift flush of joy.

"Oh, thank you--thank you, Jack!" she sobbed.

At that moment a strange incident was taking place in Dorothy's room.

Almost thoroughly exhausted with night-watching, Dorothy had fallen
asleep i