Joe Morgan hesitated.

"Just promise me that, father. It won't be long; I shall be up
again in a little while."

How well the father knows what is in the heart of his child. Her
fears are all for him. Who is to go up after her poor father, and
lead him home when the darkness of inebriety is on his spirit, and
external perception so dulled that not skill enough remains to
shun the harm that lies in his path?

"Do promise just that, father, dear."

He cannot resist the pleading voice and look. "I promise it, Mary;
so shut your eyes now and go to sleep. I'm afraid this fever will
increase."

"Oh! I'm so glad--so glad!"

Mary does not clasp her hands, nor show strong external signs of
pleasure; but how full of a pure, unselfish joy is that low-
murmured ejaculation, spoken in the depths of her spirit, as well
as syllabled by her tongue!

Mrs. Morgan has been no unconcerned witness of all this; but
knowing the child's influence over her father, she has not
ventured a word. More was to be gained, she was sure, by silence
on her part; and so she kept silent. Now she comes nearer to them,
and says, as she lets a hand rest on the shoulder of her husband: