ssy cooked some of her messes and soothing possets,
and made much of him as he lay on his pillow looking idly out on the
October sunshine. And the next day, as the pain and drowsiness did not
diminish, she very wisely suggested that a doctor should be sent for;
and as Dr. Foster stood beside him, asking him questions rather gravely,
a sudden thought came into Mat's mind, and he looked into the doctor's
eyes a little solemnly.

'You need not be afraid to tell me, doctor,' he said sadly; 'my life has
not been much good to me, and I shall not be sorry to part with it.' But
the doctor's answer was kindly evasive.

But two or three nights afterwards, as Thomas O'Brien was sitting beside
the bed for an hour to relieve Prissy, Mat stretched out his lean arm
and grasped his brother's coat-sleeve.

'It is coming, Tom,' he said; 'I shall soon be with my boy--that is, if
God's mercy will grant me admittance to that good place. Give my love to
Mollie and the little chap, and, Tom, old fellow, God bless you!'

He murmured something drowsily, and then again more clearly:

'Tell Olive that she was not to blame so much, after all. I have been
too hard on her, poor girl! but she could not help her nature. Isn't
there something about "To whoever little is forgiven, the same loveth
little"? I seem to remember Susie reading it.'

And Thomas O'Brien, bending over the gray face, repeated the words
slowly:

'"Wherefore I say unto you, her sins, which are many, are forgiven, for
she loveth much."'

But Mat interrupted him:

'He has forgiven me plenty, lad, and you too, and I love Him for it.'

And those were Matthew O'Brien's last words.

Mat O'Brien did not go unwept to his grave, in spite of his
unsatisfactory life. His brother mourned for him long and sincerely, and
in their way Kester and Mollie grieved, too. At Audrey's wish, Mollie
wrote the full particulars of her father's death to the convent. Sister
Monica's answer was, in Audrey's opinion, singularly suggestive of the
ci-devant Mrs. Blake. It was a strange medley of mysticism and motherly
yearnings, but at the end was a touch of real honest feeling.

'Tell Audrey that when I pray for my boy I pray for her, too; and,
Mollie, do not think that your mother forgets you, for perhaps she
may do you better service now than ever she did when we were
together. Think of me sometimes, my child. I am glad that your
father spoke of me so kindly. I can pray f