ess, and her father slumbered with his hand still upon her
head. He breathed quite softly and regularly, and in a little time
Christie found courage to raise herself and to look into his face.
There was no change on it, such as she had heard comes always to the
face of the dying, and gradually the quick beating of her heart ceased.
As she stood gazing, he opened his eyes and met her look.

"You are weary and wan, poor child," he said. "You should have let
Annie or Sarah be with me to-night. Lie down and rest."

"Are you worse, father? Would you like to have me call Annie or Sarah?"

He looked surprised.

"No; I am very comfortable. I think I shall sleep. Lie down and rest,
my poor, weary lamb."

She moved the light so that his face might be in the shadow, and then
laid herself down on the low bed near him. She did not mean to sleep;
she thought she could not, but weariness overcame her, and she did not
waken till Annie lifted the window-curtain and let the light stream in
on her face. She woke with a start and a cry; but a glance at her
sister's serene face reassured her.

"You frightened little creature! What makes you jump out of your sleep
in that way? I doubt if you have slept much, and yet father says he has
had a good night."

"Oh, yes, I have," said she, with a sigh of relief. "I think I have
been dreaming."

Looking into her father's face for confirmation of Annie's assurance
that he was better, he met her look with a smile which quite banished
her fears, saying he was very comfortable and had slept well. Once or
twice during the day her fears came back; but she strove to chase them
away, calling herself foolish and unthankful. And she could easily do
so; for he did seem really better. He conversed more than usual with
Aunt Elsie--though Christie did not understand all they said. She only
knew that they spoke earnestly, and that her father spoke cheerfully.
Aunt Elsie looked grave and doubtful enough. "But she always does,"
thought Christie. "I can judge nothing by that."

He went farther down the garden-walk than he had ever gone yet; and he
looked so cheerful, sitting in the sunshine, that Christie smiled at her
unreasonable fears. Alas! that day was to be ever memorable to the
Redfern children, as the last on which the sunshine ever rested on their
father's face. He never trod the garden path again.

That night Effie came home, and did not go away again till all was over.
Christ