Nor, when at length he was sent for, was he in any
great haste; all was well over ere he arrived. But he was a little
touched when, drawing his face down to hers, she feebly whispered,
"He's as like to you, Tom, as ever small thing was to great!" She saw
the slight emotion, and fell asleep comforted.

It was night when she woke. Mary was sitting by her.

"O Mary!" she cried, "the angels have been calling me again. Did you
hear them?"

"No," answered Mary, a little coldly, for, if ever she was inclined to
be hard, it was toward self-sentiment. "Why do you think the angels
should call you? Do you suppose them very desirous of your company?"

"They do call people," returned Letty, almost crying; "and I don't know
why they mightn't call me. I'm not such a very wicked person!"

Mary's heart smote her; she was refusing Letty the time God was giving
her! She could not wake her up, and, while God was waking her, she was
impatient!

"I heard the call, too, Letty," she said; "but it was not the angels.
It was the same instrument we heard the other night. Who can there be
in the house to play like that? It was clearer this time. I thought I
could listen to it a whole year."

"Why didn't you wake me?" said Letty.

"Because the more you sleep the better. And the doctor says I mustn't
let you talk. I will get you something, and then you must go to sleep
again."

Tom did not appear any more that night; and, if they had wanted him
now, they would not have known where to find him. He was about nothing
very bad--only supping with some friends--such friends as he did not
even care to tell that he had a son.

He was ashamed of being in London at this time of the year, and, but
that he had not money enough to go anywhere except to his mother's, he
would have gone, and left Letty to shift for herself.

With his child he was pleased, and would not seldom take him for a few
moments; but, when he cried, he was cross with him, and showed himself
the unreasonable baby of the two.

The angels did not want Letty just yet, and she slowly recovered.

For Mary it was a peaceful time. She was able to read a good deal, and,
although there were no books in Mr. Redmain's house, she generally
succeeded in getting such as she wanted. She was able also to practice
as much as she pleased, for now the grand piano was entirely at her
service, and she took the opportunity of having a lesson every day.

CHAPTER XXXV.

THE MUSICIAN.

O