righter, as the
shades of night came on. Mittie heeded not the change in her mother, but
the affectionate heart of Louis felt many a sad foreboding, as his
subdued steps and hushed laugh plainly told. He was naturally joyous and
gay, even to rudeness, always playing some good-natured but teasing
prank on his little sister, and making the house ring with his
merriment. Now, whenever that hollow cough rung in his ears, he would
start as if a knife pierced him, and it would be a long time before his
laugh would be heard again. He redoubled his filial attentions, and
scarcely ever entered the house without bringing something which he
thought would please her taste, or be grateful to her feelings.

"Mother, see what a nice string of fishes. I am sure you will like
these."

"Oh! mother, here are the sweetest flowers you ever saw. Do smell of
them, they are so reviving."

The tender smile, the fond caress which rewarded these love-offerings
were very precious to the warm-hearted boy, though he often ran out of
the house to hide the tears they forced into his eyes.

Helen knew that her mother was not well, for she now reclined a great
deal on the sofa, and Doctor Sennar came to see her every day, and
sometimes the young doctor accompanied him, and when he did, he always
took a great deal of notice of her, and said something she could not
help remembering. Perhaps it was the peculiar glance of his eye that
fixed the impression, as the characters written in indelible ink are
pale and illegible till exposed to a slow and gentle fire.

"You ought to do all you can for your mother," said he, while he held
her in his lap, and Doctor Sennar counted her mother's pulse by the
ticking of his large gold watch.

"I am too little to do any good," answered she, sighing at her own
insignificance.

"You can be very still and gentle."

"But that isn't doing anything, is it?"

"When you are older," said the young doctor, "you will find it is harder
to keep from doing wrong than to do what is right."

Helen did not understand the full force of what he said, but the saying
remained in her memory.

The next day, and the bloom of early summer was on the plains, and its
deep, blue glory on the sky, Helen thought again and again what she
should do for her mother. At length she remembered that some one had
said that the strawberries were ripe, and that her mother had longed
exceedingly for a dish of strawberries and cream. This was someth