is glad to have even the poor bond of a
debt between you and her? All of us who are sorry for our sins are
brothers and sisters."

"O Mary!" said Tom.

"But I will tell you what will be better: let your mother pay your
debts, and I will look after Letty. I will care for her like my own
sister, Tom."

"Then I shall die happy," said Tom; and from that day began to recover.

Many who would pay money to keep a man alive or to deliver him from
pain would pay nothing to take a killing load off the shoulders of his
mind. Hunger they can pity--not mental misery.

Tom would not hear of his mother being written to.

"I have done Letty wrong enough already," he said, "without subjecting
her to the cruel tongue of my mother. I have conscience enough left not
to have anybody else abuse her."

"But, Tom," expostulated Mary, "if you want to be good, one of your
first duties is to be reconciled to your mother."

"I am very sorry things are all wrong between us, Mary," said Tom.
"But, if you want her to come here, you don't know what you are talking
about. She must have everything her own way, or storm from morning to
night. I would gladly make it up with her, but live with her, or die
with her, I could _not_. To make either possible, you must convert her,
too. When you have done that, I will invite her at once."

"Never mind me, Tom," said Letty. "So long as you love me, I don't care
what even your mother thinks of me. I will do everything I can to make
her comfortable, and satisfied with me."

"Wait till I am better, anyhow, Letty; for I solemnly assure you I
haven't a chance if my mother comes. I will tell you what, Mary: I
promise you, if I get better, I will do what is possible to be a son to
my mother; and for the present I will dictate a letter, if you will
write it, bidding her good-by, and asking her pardon for everything I
have done wrong by her, which you will please send if I should die. I
can not and I will not promise more."

He was excited and exhausted, and Mary dared not say another word. Nor
truly did she at the moment see what more could be said. Where all
relation has been perverted, things can not be set right by force.
Perhaps all we can do sometimes is to be willing and wait.

The letter was dictated and written--a lovely one, Mary thought--and it
made her weep as she wrote it. Tom signed it with his own hand. Mary
folded, sealed, addressed it, and laid it away in her desk.

The same evening Tom sa