Mac, taking an easy chair and stretching his feet to
the fire.

She brought it to him and made him eat something; then, as he shut his
eyes wearily, she went away to the piano and, having no heart to sing,
played softly till he seemed asleep. But at the stroke of six he was up
and ready to be off again.

"He gave me that. Take it with you and put some on his hair. He likes
it, and I do so want to help a little," she said, slipping the pretty
flagon into his pocket with such a wistful look Mac never thought of
smiling at this very feminine request.

"I'll tell him. Is there anything else I can do for you, Cousin?" he
asked, holding the cold hand that had been serving him so helpfully.

"Only this if there is any sudden change, promise to send for me, no
matter at what hour it is. I must say 'good-bye'".

"I will come for you. But, Rose, I am sure you may sleep in peace
tonight, and I hope to have good news for you in the morning."

"Bless you for that! Come early, and let me see him soon. I will be very
good, and I know it will not do him any harm."

"No fear of that. The first thing he said when he could speak was 'Tell
Rose carefully,' and as I came away he guessed where I was going and
tried to kiss his hand in the old way, you know."

Mac thought it would cheer her to hear that Charlie remembered her, but
the sudden thought that she might never see the familiar little gesture
anymore was the last drop that made her full heart overflow, and Mac saw
the "hero" of the morning sink down at his feet in a passion of tears
that frightened him. He took her to the sofa and tried to comfort her,
but as soon as the bitter sobbing quieted she looked up and said quite
steadily, great drops rolling down her cheeks the while: "Let me cry it
is what I need, and I shall be all the better for it by and by. Go to
Charlie now and tell him I said with all my heart, 'Good night!'?

"I will!" And Mac trudged away, marveling in his turn at the curiously
blended strength and weakness of womankind.

That was the longest night Rose ever spent, but joy came in the morning
with the early message: "He is better. You are to come by and by." Then
Aunt Plenty forgot her lumbago and arose; Aunt Myra, who had come to
have a social croak, took off her black bonnet as if it would not be
needed at present, and the girl made ready to go and say "Welcome back,"
not the hard "Good-bye."

It seemed very long to wait, for no summons came till afte