was determined to keep to it.

A year after this conversation, Gregory was sixteen. Now tall and
strong, he had, for some time past, been anxious to obtain some
employment that would enable his mother to give up her teaching. Some
of this, indeed, she had been obliged to relinquish. During the past
few months her cheeks had become hollow, and her cough was now frequent
by day, as well as by night. She had consulted an English doctor, who,
she saw by the paper, was staying at Shepherd's Hotel. He had hesitated
before giving a direct opinion, but on her imploring him to tell her
the exact state of her health, said gently:

"I am afraid, madam, that I can give you no hope of recovery. One lung
has already gone, the other is very seriously diseased. Were you living
in England, I should say that your life might be prolonged by taking
you to a warm climate; but as it is, no change could be made for the
better."

"Thank you, Doctor. I wanted to know the exact truth, and be able to
make my arrangements accordingly. I was quite convinced that my
condition was hopeless, but I thought it right to consult a physician,
and to know how much time I could reckon on. Can you tell me that?"

"That is always difficult, Mrs. Hilliard. It may be three months hence.
It might be more speedily--a vessel might give way in the lungs,
suddenly. On the other hand, you might live six months. Of course, I
cannot say how rapid the progress of the disease has been."

"It may not be a week, doctor. I am not at all afraid of hearing your
sentence--indeed, I can see it in your eyes."

"It may be within a week"--the doctor bowed his head gravely--"it may
be at any time."

"Thank you!" she said, quietly. "I was sure it could not be long. I
have been teaching, but three weeks ago I had to give up my last pupil.
My breath is so short that the slightest exertion brings on a fit of
coughing."

On her return home she said to Gregory:

"My dear boy, you must have seen--you cannot have helped seeing--that
my time is not long here. I have seen an English doctor today, and he
says the end may come at any moment."

"Oh, Mother, Mother!" the lad cried, throwing himself on his knees, and
burying his face in her lap, "don't say so!"

The news, indeed, did not come as a surprise to him. He had, for
months, noticed the steady change in her: how her face had fallen away,
how her hands seemed nerveless, her flesh transparent, and her eyes
grew larger and larg