son. I— wish I could take— my name— an' all— it means— along— with— me. But— promise— me— you— will— go. Promise—"
"I will go if you so wish it."
"Thank— you. An'— now— good-bye. I— can't talk— any— more. I don't dare— to advise— you— after— all— you— know— of me; but do— right— do right."
The hand relaxed and the eyelids closed. Brent thought that he was dead, and prompted by some impulse, bent down and kissed his father's brow,—his father, after all. A smile flitted over the pale face, but the eyes did not open. But he did not die then. Fred called Mrs. Hodges and left her with his father while he sat with Eliphalet. It was not until the next morning, when the air was full of sunlight, the song of birds, and the chime of church bells, that old Tom Brent's weary spirit passed out on its search for God. He had not spoken after his talk with his son.
There were heavy hearts about his bed, but there were no tears, no sorrow for his death,—only regret for the manner of his life.
Mrs. Hodges and Eliphalet agreed that
