egan to
draw some free breaths. But her husband thought only of his child;
unless, perhaps, of himself; and drew none. Regularly after supper he
would draw Nettie to his arms and sit with her head on his shoulder;
silent generally, only he would sometimes ask her what she would like.
The first time he put this inquiry when Mr. Lumber was out of the way,
Nettie answered by asking him to read to her. Mr. Mathieson hesitated a
little, not unkindly, and then read; a chapter in the Bible, of course,
for Nettie wished to hear nothing else. And after that he often read to
her; for Mr. Lumber kept up his old habits and preferred livelier
company, and so was always out in the evenings.

So several days passed; and when Saturday came, Mr. Mathieson lost half
a day's work and took a long walk to a farm where the people kept
pigeons; and brought home one for Nettie's supper. However, she could
fancy but very little of it.

"What shall I do for you?" said her father. "You go round like a shadow,
and you don't eat much more. What shall I do that you would like?"

This time there was nobody in the room. Nettie lifted her head from his
shoulder and met his eyes.

"If you would come to Jesus, father!"

"What?" said Mr. Mathieson.--"I don't know anything about that, Nettie.
I aint fit."

"Jesus will take you anyhow, father, if you will come."

"We'll talk about that some other time," said Mr. Mathieson,--"when you
get well."

"But suppose I don't get well, father?"

"Eh?----" said Mr. Mathieson, startled.

"Perhaps I shan't get well," said Nettie, her quiet, grave face not
changing in the least; "then I shall go to the golden city; and father,
I shall be looking for you till you come."

Mr. Mathieson did not know how to answer her; he only groaned.

"Father, will you come?" Nettie repeated, a little faint streak of
colour in her cheeks showing the earnestness of the feeling at work. But
her words had a mingled accent of tenderness and hope which was
irresistible.

"Yes, Nettie--if you will show me how," her father answered, in a
lowered voice. And Nettie's eye gave one bright flash of joy. It was as
if all her strength had gone out at that flash, and she was obliged to
lean back on her father's shoulder and wait; joy seemed to have taken
away her breath. He waited too, without knowing why she did.

"Father, the only thing to do is to come to Jesus."

"What does that mean, Nettie? You know I don't know."

"It means, f