and I begin to feel uneasy, lest he should never awake again. I
have heard of this happening."

"See if father isn't awake," said Mary, raising her head from the
pillow. She had not heard what passed between her mother and Mrs.
Slade, for the conversation was carried on in low voices.

Mrs. Morgan stepped to the door, and looked into the room where
her husband lay.

"He is still asleep, dear," she remarked, coming back to the bed.

"Oh! I wish he was awake. I want to see him so much. Won't you
call him, mother?"

"I have called him a good many times. But you know the doctor gave
him opium. He can't wake up yet."

"He's been sleeping a very long time; don't you think so, mother?"

"Yes, dear, it does seem a long time. But it is best for him.
He'll be better when he wakes."

Mary closed her eyes, wearily. How deathly white was her face--how
sunken her eyes--how sharply contracted her features!

"I've given her up, Mrs. Slade," said Mrs. Morgan, in a low,
rough, choking whisper, as she leaned nearer to her friend. "I've
given her up! The worst is over; but, oh! it seemed as though my
heart would break in the struggle. Dear child! In all the darkness