longer. It seems to be
very important that he should have his supper."

"He shall have it," assured Deborah, rather enjoying the way in which
Mark was put down; "that is, if he don't get me kicked out of the
house."

"You had better not make any such threats in the future, Mark," said
Frank, significantly.

"Who's to hinder?" blustered Mark.

"I am," answered Frank, pointedly.

"You are nothing but a boy like me," retorted Mark.

"My mother is mistress here, and I represent her."

"Things may change soon," muttered Mark; but Frank had left the room and
did not hear him.

Mark did not trouble himself even to inquire for his stepmother, but
went out to the stable and lounged about until bedtime. He seemed very
much bored, and so expressed himself.

Frank wished to sit up all night with his mother, but, as she had a
professional nurse, it was thought best that he should obtain his
regular rest, the nurse promising to call the family if any change
should be apparent in her patient's condition.

About half-past four in the morning there was a summons.

"Mrs. Manning is worse," said the nurse. "I don't think she can last
long."

One last glance of love--though she could no longer speak--assured Frank
that she knew him and loved him to the last.

The memory of that look often came back to him in the years that
followed, and he would not have parted with it for anything that earth
could give.

Just as the clock struck five, his mother breathed her last. The boy
gazed upon the inanimate form, but he was dazed, and could not realize
that his mother had left him, never to return.

"She is gone," said Mr. Manning, softly.

"Dead!" ejaculated Frank.

"Yes, her sufferings are over. Let us hope she is better off. My boy, I
think you had better return to your bed. You can do nothing for your
mother now."

"I would rather stay here," said Frank, sadly. "I can at least look at
her, and soon I shall lose even that comfort."

The thought was too much for the poor boy, and he burst into tears.

"Do as you please, Frank," assented Mr. Manning. "I feel for you, and I
share in your grief. I will go and tell Mark of our sad loss."

He made his way to Mark's chamber and entered. He touched Mark, who was
in a doze, and he started up.

"What's the matter?" he asked, crossly.

"Your poor mother is dead, Mark."

"Well, there was no need to wake me for that," said the boy, irritably.
"I can't help it, can I?"

"I th