ift yet, I see."

"Yes, papa; but I had to give up the flannels. I don't see how mamma
could wear them. But my dresses are high-necked, and by bathing I
toughen my skin. See!" she added, as, with a child-like unconsciousness,
she unfastened two or three buttons of her gown, and exposed the white
surface of her throat and neck to her father, "I can defy a chill."

Mr. Rightbody, with something akin to a genuine playful, paternal laugh,
leaned forward and kissed her forehead.

"It's getting late, Ally," he said parentally, but not dictatorially.
"Go to bed."

"I took a nap of three hours this afternoon," said Miss Alice, with
a dazzling smile, "to anticipate this dissipation. Good-night, papa.
To-morrow, then."

"To-morrow," repeated Mr. Rightbody, with his eyes still fixed upon the
girl vaguely. "Good-night."

Miss Alice tripped from the room, possibly a trifle the more
light-heartedly that she had parted from her father in one of his rare
moments of illogical human weakness. And perhaps it was well for the
poor girl that she kept this single remembrance of him, when, I fear, in
after-years, his methods, his reasoning, and indeed all he had tried to
impress upon her childhood, had faded from her memory.

For, when she had left, Mr. Rightbody fell again to the examination of
his old letters. This was quite absorbing; so much so, that he did not
notice the footsteps of Mrs. Rightbody, on the staircase as she passed
to her chamber, nor that she had paused on the landing to look through
the glass half-door on her husband, as he sat there with the letters
beside him, and the telegram opened before him. Had she waited a
moment later, she would have seen him rise, and walk to the sofa with a
disturbed air and a slight confusion; so that, on reaching it, he seemed
to hesitate to lie down, although pale and evidently faint. Had she
still waited, she would have seen him rise again with an agonized
effort, stagger to the table, fumblingly refold and replace the papers
in the cabinet, and lock it, and, although now but half-conscious, hold
the telegram over the gas-flame till it was consumed.

For, had she waited until this moment, she would have flown
unhesitatingly to his aid, as, this act completed, he staggered again,
reached his hand toward the bell, but vainly, and then fell prone upon
the sofa.

But alas! no providential nor accidental hand was raised to save him,
or anticipate the progress of this story. And when,