There was a sparkle of indignation in Alice’s blue eyes.

“You have no cause to be ashamed of Hugh,” she said, quickly, the tone of her voice coming like a revelation to ’Lina, who scanned her face eagerly, and then, turning, looked curiously up to Hugh.

“I’m glad, I’m glad,” she whispered, “for I know now you are worthy even of her.”

“You are mistaken, ’Lina,” Hugh said, huskily, while ’Lina continued; “And, Hugh, I must tell you more, how bad I’ve been.  You remember the money you sent to Adah last summer in mother’s letter.  I kept the whole.  I burned the letter, and mother never saw it.  I bought jewelry with Adah’s money.  I did so many things, I—­I—­it goes from me now.  I can’t remember all.  Oh, must I confess the whole, everything, before I can say, ‘Forgive us our trespasses?’”

“No, ’Lina.  Unless you can repair some wrong, you are not bound to tell every little thing.  Confession is due to God alone,” Alice whispered to the agitated girl, who looked bewildered, as she answered back:  “But God knows all now, and you do not; besides, I can’t feel sorry toward Him as I do toward others.  I try and try, but the feeling is not there—­the sorry feeling, I mean, as sorry as I want to feel.”

“God, who knows our feebleness, accepts our purposes to do better, and gives us strength to carry them out,” Alice whispered, again bending over ’Lina, on whose pallid, distressed face a ray of hope for a moment shone.

“I have good purposes,” she murmured; “but I can’t, I can’t.  I don’t know as they are real; maybe, if I get well, they would not last, and it’s all so dark, so desolate—­nothing to make life desirable—­no home, no name, no friends—­and death is so terrible.  Oh, Hugh, Hugh! don’t let me go.  You are strong; you can hold me back, even from Death himself; and I can be good to you; I can feel on that point, and I tell you truly that, standing as I am with the world behind and death before, I see nothing to make life desirable, but you, Hugh, my noble, my abused brother.  To make you love me, as I hope I might, is worth living for.  You would stand by me, Hugh—­you, if no one else, and I wish I could tell you how fast the great throbs of love keep coming to my heart.  Dear Hugh, Hugh, Brother Hugh, don’t let me die—­hold me fast.”

With an icy shiver, she clung closer to Hugh, as if he could indeed do battle with the king of terror stealing slowly into that room.

“Somebody say ‘Our Father,’” she whispered, “I can’t remember how it goes.”

“Do you forgive and love everybody?” Alice asked, sighing as she saw the bitter expression flash for an instant over the pinched features, while the white lips answered:  “Not Adah, no, not Adah.”

Alice could not pray after that, not aloud at least, and a deep silence fell upon the group assembled around the deathbed.  ’Lina slept at last, slept quietly on Hugh’s strong arm, and gradually the hard expression on the face relaxed, giving way to one of quiet peace, and Densie, watching her anxiously, whispered beneath her breath:  “See, the Murdock is all gone, and her face is like a baby’s face.  Maybe she would call me mother now.”