shall be able to face the consequences of
my own wrong-doing. But if not, I leave it to you to do the very
best you can. You can't make up for all the man may have had to
suffer, but at least you can tell him that I was sorry."

Katherine shuddered. It was bad enough to be compelled to hear
that her father had been guilty of such meanness as to keep silent,
in order that he might profit by the downfall of an innocent man;
but when, in addition to this, she was expected to tell that man of
how her father had acted, and, as it were, ask pardon for it, the
ordeal appeared beyond her strength to face. Not a word of this
did she say, however, for it was quite plain to her that the
invalid had already over-excited himself, and she rather dreaded
what Mrs. Burton would say presently.

"You must go to sleep, Father, and we will talk about this again
another day," she said firmly.

"No, we will not speak of it again, for it is not a pleasant
subject for discussion," he replied. "Only tell me that you will
take my burden and bear it for me as best you can, if I am not able
to bear it myself, and then I can be at peace."

Katherine bent over him, gathering his feeble hands in a close
clasp, and the steadfast light in her eyes was beautiful to see.
"Dear Father, I will do my very best to make the wrong as right as
it can be made. Now try to rest, and get better as fast as you can."

He smiled, shook his head a little at her talk of getting better
speedily, then to her great relief he shut his eyes and went to
sleep. The burden had fallen from him upon her, and it had fallen
so heavily that just at first she was stunned by the blow. There
was no sound in the quiet room except the regular breathing of the
sleeper. Outside the brief winter day merged into the long
northern night; the stars came out, shining with frosty brilliancy,
but Katherine sat by the bedside, and never once did her gaze
wander to the window. Mrs. Burton came in presently, bringing a
lamp, and scolding softly because the room was in darkness. But
when she saw how quietly her father was sleeping, her gentle
complaining turned into murmurs of pleased satisfaction.

"Really, Katherine, you are a better nurse than I thought. I was
so afraid of the restlessness coming on again, as it has done about
this time every day since his accident. But now he is sleeping most
beautifully, so I feel sure he has taken a turn, and that we shall
pull him through."