daughter in
the face--an' answer her as you expect to meet God, when you leave this
throubled life--truth--truth now, mother, an' nothin' else. Mother, I
am dyin'. Now, as God is to judge you, did you ever love my father as a
wife ought?"

There was some irresistible spirit, some unaccountable power, in her
manner and language,--such command and such wonderful love of candor in
her full dark eye--that it was impossible to gainsay or withstand her.

"I will spake the thruth," replied her mother, evidently borne away and
subdued, "although it's against myself--to my shame an' to my sorrow
I say it--that when I married your father, another man had my
affections--but, as I'm to appear before God, I never wronged him. I
don't know how it is that you've made me confess it; but at any rate
you're the first that ever wrung it out o' me."

"That will do," replied her daughter, calmly; "that sounds like murdher
from a mother's lips! Lay me down now, Biddy."

Mave, who had scarcely ever taken her eyes from off her varying and busy
features, was now struck by a singular change which she observed come
over them--a change that was nothing but the shadow of death, and cannot
be described.

"Sarah!" she exclaimed; "dear, darling Sarah, what is the matter with
you? Have you got ill again?"

"Oh! my child!" exclaimed her mother--"am I to lose you this way at
last? Oh! dear Sarah, forgive me--I'm you mother, and you'll forgive
me."

"Mave," said Sarah, "take this--I remember seein' yours and mine
together not very long ago--take this lock of my hair--I think you'll
get a pair of scissors on the corner of the shelf--cut it off with
your own hands--let it be sent to my father--an' when he's dyin' a
disgraceful death, let him wear it next his heart--an' wherever he's to
be buried, let him have this buried with him. Let whoever will give it
to him, say that it comes from Sarah--an' that, if she was able, she
would be with him through shame, an' disgrace, an' death; that she'd
support him as well as she could in his trouble--that she'd scorn the
world for him--an' that because he said wanst in his life that he loved
her; she'd forgive him all a thousand times, an' would lay down her life
for him."

"You would do that, my noble girl!" exclaimed Mave, with a choking
voice.

"An' above all things," proceeded Sarah, "let him be told, if it can be
done, that Sarah said to him to die without fear--to bear it up like
a man, an' not like