er, and who in
the army had shown reckless indifference even when he supposed his
wounds to be mortal, was now watching her as though he feared to have
her leave his side. In his extreme weakness, unable to lift his head,
his mind evidently beginning to wander, perhaps he felt the need of her
companionship, and dreaded solitude and death as she did. For half the
night she pondered over this weakening of the will in the face of
omnipotence crushing out the last spark of life, and was doubly startled
when, the nurse coming to relieve her at six o'clock, she leaned over to
kiss her father's forehead and found him looking at her in his old
humorous way, while, in a low whisper, speaking slowly, as though he
would not yield to the enemy that clutched his heart, he said:

"It's not so bad, Esther, when you come to it."

The tears started into Esther's eyes. It was only with an effort more
violent than she had thought was in her power, that she forced herself
to smile. Now that she had come to it, she thought it was very bad;
worse than any thing she had ever imagined; she wanted to escape, to run
away, to get out of life itself, rather than suffer such pain, such
terror, such misery of helplessness; but after an instant's pause, her
father whispered again, though his voice died away in weakness:

"Laugh, Esther, when you're in trouble! Say something droll! then you're
safe. I saw the whole regiment laugh under fire at Gettysburg."

This was more than she could bear, and she had to hurry out of the room.
She had fancied him yielding to fear and finding courage in her
companionship. Suddenly she became aware that, with death's hand on his
throat and a brain reeling in exhaustion, he was trying to teach her how
to meet what life had to bring. The lesson was one she could not easily
forget.

So she went to her bed, in the cold, gray dawn of a winter's day, with
the tears still running down her face. When she woke again the day was
already waning, a dripping, wasting thaw, when smoking and soot-defiled
snow added sadness to the sad sky. Esther, on opening her eyes, saw
Catherine sitting quietly before the fire, reading, or pretending to
read. She was keeping guard lest Esther should be disturbed.

"He is no worse," she said, when Esther raised her head. "I was at his
door five minutes ago. Mrs. Murray is there and so is the doctor. You
are not wanted and they sent word that you were not to be disturbed."

Esther was glad to