needs rest instead of excitement."

There was magic in the touch of that gentle hand, in the tones of that
persuasive voice. The father's stern brow relaxed, and a cloud of the
deepest sadness extinguished the fiery anger of his glance. The cloud
condensed and melted away in tears. Helen saw them, though he turned
away, and shaded his face with his hand, and putting her arms round him,
she kissed the hand which hung loosely at his side. This act, so tender
and respectful, touched him to the heart's core.

"My child, my darling, my own sweet Helen," he cried, pressing her
fondly to his bosom. "You have always been gentle, loving and obedient.
You have never wilfully given me one moment's sorrow. In the name of thy
beautiful mother I bless thee, and thou shalt be blessed."

The excitement of his feelings gave an exalted tone to his voice and
words, and as the benediction stole solemnly into her heart, Helen felt
as if the plumage of the white dove was folded in downy softness there.
In the meantime Mittie had quitted the room, and Mrs. Gleason drawing
near Louis, sat down by him, and addressed him in a kind, cheering
manner.

"These heavy locks must be shorn to-morrow," said she, passing her hand
over his long, dark hair. "They sadden your countenance too much. A
night's sleep, too, will bring back the color to your face. You are over
weary now. Retire, my son, and banish every emotion but gratitude for
your return. You are safe now, and all will yet be well."

"Oh, mother," he answered, suffering his head to droop upon her
shoulder, then suddenly lifting it, "I am not worthy to rest on this
sacred pillow. I am not worthy to touch the hem of your garments, but if
the deepest repentance--the keenest remorse," he paused, for his voice
faltered, then added, passionately, "oh, mother--

'Not poppy, nor mandragora,
Nor all the drowsy sirups of the world
Can ever medicine me to the sweet sleep'

I once slept beneath this hallowed roof."

"No, my son--but there is a remedy more balmy and powerful than all the
drugs of the East, which you can obtain without money and without
price."

Louis shook his head mournfully.

"I will give you an anodyne to-night, prepared by my own hand, and
to-morrow--"

"Give me the anodyne, kindest and best of mothers, but don't, for
Heaven's sake, talk of to-morrow."

But whether man speak or be silent, Time, the unresting traveler,
presses on. Never but once have its char