ou do not know; pray
God you may never know."

"I wish to God I could bear it for you, Aunt Lizzie," Robert said,
fervently.

"Oh, hush! If you or Norman had to bear anything like this, I should
curse God and die," she answered, and she shut her mouth hard, and
her whole face was indicative of a repressed shriek.

"Aunt Lizzie, don't you think you ought to go to New York, that you
ought--" Robert began, but she stopped him with an almost fierce
peremptoriness. "Robert Lloyd, I have trusted you," she said. "For
God's sake, don't forsake me. Don't say a word to me about that;
when I can I will. It means my death, anyhow. Dr. Evarts thought so;
you can't deny it."

"I think he thought there was a chance, Aunt Lizzie," Robert
returned, but he said it faintly.

"You can't cheat me," replied Mrs. Lloyd. "I know." She had a lapse
from pain, and her features began to assume their natural
expression. She looked at him almost smiling, and as if she turned
her back upon her own misery. "Where have you been, Robert?" she
asked.

Robert colored a little, but he answered directly enough. "I have
been to make a call on Miss Brewster," he said.

"You don't go there very often," said Mrs. Lloyd.

"No, not very often."

"She's a beautiful girl, as beautiful a girl as I ever laid eyes on,
if she does work in the shop," said Mrs. Lloyd, "and she's a good
girl, too; I know she is. She was the sweetest little thing when she
was a child, and she 'ain't altered a mite!" Then Mrs. Lloyd looked
with a sort of wistful curiosity at Robert.

"I think it is all true, what you say, Aunt Lizzie," replied Robert.

Mrs. Lloyd continued to look at him with that wistful scrutiny.

"Robert," she began, then she hesitated.

"What, Aunt Lizzie?"

"If--ever you wanted to marry that girl, I don't see any reason why
you shouldn't, for my part."

Robert pulled a chair close to his aunt, and sat down beside her,
still holding her hand.

"I've a good mind to tell you the whole story, Aunt Lizzie," he
said.

"I wish you would, Robert. You know I think as much of you as if you
were my own son, and I won't tell anybody, not even your uncle, if
you don't want me to."

"Well, then, it is all in a nutshell," said Robert. "I like her, you
know, and I think I have ever since I saw her in her little white
gown at the high-school exhibition."

"Wasn't she sweet?" said his aunt.

"And she likes me, too, I think."

"Of course she does."

"Bu