llie. "I have no cause for hating _you_."

"And you will stay with me until I die--until he comes home--and
forgive him, too," Mabel continued.

"I can promise the first, but the latter is harder," said Nellie, her
cheeks burning with anger as she gazed on the wreck before her.

"But you must, you will," exclaimed Mabel, rapidly telling all she
knew; then falling back upon the pillow, she added, "You'll forgive him
Nellie?"

As time passed on, Mabel grew weaker and weaker, clinging closer to
Nellie as she felt the dark shadow of death creeping gradually over her.

"If he'd only come," she would say, "and I could place your hand in his
before I died."

But it was not to be. Day after day John Jr. lingered, dreading to
return, for he knew Nellie was there, and he could not meet her, he
thought, at the bedside of Mabel. So he tarried until a letter from
'Lena, which said that Mabel would die, decided him, and rather
reluctantly he started homeward. Meantime Mabel, who knew nothing of
her loss, conceived the generous idea of willing all her possessions to
her recreant husband.

"Perhaps he'll think more kindly of me," said she to his father, to
whom she first communicated her plan, and Mr. Livingstone felt that he
could not undeceive her.

Accordingly, a lawyer was summoned from Frankfort, and the will duly
drawn up, signed, sealed, and delivered into the hands of Mr.
Livingstone, whose wife, with a mocking laugh, bade him "guard it
carefully, it was so valuable."

"It shows her goodness of heart, at least," said he, and possibly Mrs.
Livingstone thought so, too, for from that time her manner softened
greatly toward her daughter-in-law.

* * * * * *

It was midnight at Maple grove. On the table, in its accustomed place,
the lamp was burning dimly, casting the shadow upon the wall, whilst
over the whole room a darker shadow was brooding. The window was open,
and the cool night air came softly in, lifting the masses of raven hair
from off the pale brow of the dying. Tenderly above her Nellie and
'Lena were bending. They had watched by her many a night, and now she
asked them not to leave her, not to disturb a single one--she would
rather die alone.

The sound of horses' hoofs rang out on the still air, but she did not
heed it. Nearer and nearer it came, over the lawn, up the graveled
walk, through the yard, and Nellie's face blanched to an unnatural
whiteness as she thou