od my last hours will
be sufficiently free from pain to enable me to set my house in order.
Before calling Clara in I would talk to you alone. You will remain here
until all is over?"

"Oh, yes, sir, yes; I would do anything on earth--anything for you! I
would lay down my life this hour if I could do so to save you from this
bed of death."

"Nay, do not talk so; your young life belongs to others--to Clara and
your mother. 'God doeth all things well.' Better the ripened ear should
fall than the budding germ. I do not feel it hard to die, dear Traverse.
Though the journey has been very pleasant the goal is not unwelcome.
Earth has been very sweet to me, but heaven is sweeter."

"Oh, but we love you so! we love you so! you have so much to live for!"
exclaimed Traverse, with an irrepressible burst of grief.

"Poor boy, life is too hopeful before you to make you a comforter by a
death-bed. Yes, Traverse, I have much to live for but more to die for.
Yet not voluntarily would I have left you, though I know that I leave
you in the hands of the Lord, and with every blessing and promise of His
bountiful providence. Your love will console my child. My confidence in
you makes me easy in committing her to your charge."

"Oh, Doctor Day, may the Lord so deal with my soul eternally as I shall
discharge this trust," said Traverse, earnestly.

"I know that you will be true; I wish you to remain here with Clara and
your mother for a few weeks, until the child's first violence of grief
shall be over. Then you had best pursue the plan we laid out. Leave your
good mother here to take care of Clara, and you go to the West, get into
practice there, and, at the end of a few years, return and marry Clara.
Traverse, there is one promise I would have of you."

"I give it before it is named, dear friend," said Traverse, fervently.

"My child is but seventeen; she is so gentle that her will is subject to
that of all she loves, especially to yours. She will do anything in
conscience that you ask her to do. Traverse, I wish you to promise me
that you will not press her to marriage until she shall be at least
twenty years old. And----"

"Oh, sir, I promise! Oh, believe me, my affection for Clara is so pure
and so constant, as well as so confiding in her faith and so solicitous
for her good, that, with the assurance of her love and the privilege of
visiting her and writing to her, I could wait many years if needful."

"I believe you, my dear