caution, and try to have him avoid anything that would be likely to bring disquiet to her."
He hastened away, and Susaa returned to her mother's bed-side. The invalid seemed rather restless, and looking up at her daughter, inquiringly, said:
"Things seem very strange to me to-day, Susan; I can't account for it."
"How do they seem, mother?" asked Susan, with a misgiving at her heart, and averting her eyes as she spoke.
"That is what I can't describe. I seem to want to talk, yet I don't."
"Because you fear that it will tire you, I suppose."
"No; rather because I have a feeling that you don't wish to hear me."
The sick woman again lifted her eyes to her daughter's face, and found it suffused with a blush.
"Why, mother," she hastened to say, at the