"We have just heard," said one of the company, "that little Mary
Morgan is dead."

"Yes--it is too true," answered Mrs. Slade, mournfully. "I have
just left there. Poor child! she has passed from an evil world."

"Evil it has indeed been to her," was remarked.

"You may well say that. And yet, amid all the evil, she been an
angel of mercy. Her last thought in dying was of her miserable
father. For him, at any time, she would have laid down her life
willingly."

"Her mother must be nearly broken-hearted. Mary is the last of her
children."

"And yet the child's death may prove a blessing to her."

"How so?"

"Her father promised Mary, just at the last moment--solemnly
promised her--that, henceforth, he would never taste liquor. That
was all her trouble. That was the thorn in her dying pillow. But
he plucked it out, and she went to sleep, lying against his heart.
Oh, gentlemen! it was the most touching sight I ever saw."

All present seemed deeply moved.

"They are very poor and wretched." was said.