"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 of my way, she has helped and comforted me. Without her, it would have been the blackness of darkness."
"Father! father!" The voice of Mary broke out with a startling quickness. Mrs. Morgan turned to the bed, and laying her hand on Mary's arm said:
"He's still sound asleep, dear."
"No, he isn't, mother. I heard him move. Won't you go in and see if he is awake?"
