g for you, and mother has
gone downstairs to speak to father."

"Thank you, Chrissy dear. I will go to her at once;" and Bessie went
hurriedly across the passage.

Hattie lay on her little bed with her eyes closed. As she opened them a
sudden sweet smile came over her face, and she held out her arms to
Bessie. "My own Betty, is it really you?"

"Yes, it is really I," returned Bessie, trying to speak brightly; but
now her heart sunk as she looked at her sister. There was no need to
tell her Hatty was very ill; the life was flickering in the feeble body,
the mysterious wasting disease had made rapid strides, even in these few
days. "Oh, Hatty darling, to find you like this! Why--why did you not
let them send for me? You wanted me; I am sure you wanted me."

"Why, of course I wanted you," returned Hatty, in a weak, happy voice,
"and that is just why I would not let them send. You know how unhappy I
have always been because of my horrid selfishness, and I did want to be
good for once, and I said to myself when Mrs. Sefton's letter came,
'Bessie shall not know how poorly I feel, nor what strange suffocating
feelings I have sometimes. I won't try to get my own way this time; she
shall be happy a little longer.'"

"Oh, Hatty! as though I cared for any happiness without you!"

"You must not say that, Bessie dear," replied Hatty, stroking her
sister's hand; "and yet it seems nice to hear you say so. Do you
recollect what I used to say--that it would take very little to kill me,
because I was so weak? Well, I think it is coming true."

"Don't talk so, Hatty; I can't bear it. I feel as if I want to lie there
in your stead."

But Hatty shook her head.

"No, darling, no; that would not do at all. You are so strong and full
of life, and people could not spare you. It does not matter for a weakly
little creature like myself. I have never been strong enough to enjoy
anything. I have just been 'Little Miss Much-Afraid,' full of
troublesome fears and fancies; but they seem gone somehow."

"I am so glad, my Hatty; but ought you to talk?"

"Yes, when I feel like this. Oh, I am so comfortable, and it is so nice
to have you with me again. What talks we will have! Yes, I don't feel
like dying yet. Oh, there's mother, and she is going to send you away."

"Yes, for to-night, love. Bessie is tired, and it is not good for you to
talk so much. Bessie shall be head nurse to-morrow, if she likes, but
father says she is to go to bed now