herself as she paced restlessly up and down the room. Still her husband came not.
"Can he be fighting death all this while?" she said; "I hope the little spirit will be released soon." Then she fell upon her knees and prayed—prayed long and earnestly that, if it were the Lord-s will, the boy that had been thrown upon their care might have a speedy and sweet release from the burden of the flesh.
It seemed long since she had left the sick-room, and still the moments travelled slowly on.
"It cannot be much longer," she said; then a step on the landing made her look up anxiously, and her husband came quickly into the room.
"Come this way, Mary," he said, without waiting for her to speak.
"Is it all over?" she questioned, looking up into his face.
"No, I can't understand it at all: the lad seems better, though he's evidently wrong in his head."
Without further remark, she went at once to the bed-side, and laid her hand gently upon his forehead, Benny opened his eyes slowly, and raised them to her face, then tried to speak, but only a faint whisper escaped his lips.
"What do you say, poor boy?" said Mrs. Fisher kindly, bending down her ear to listen.
"May I see Nelly, please?" he whispered.
"Who is Nelly?" she replied.
"Nelly is my sister; may I not see her?" in the same faint whisper.
