The San Juan islander. [volume] (Friday Harbor, Wash.) 1898-1914, 1909-02-05

| do as you iike-that sort OF reading can
not hurt one"
Alison felt the permission was accord
ed rather ungraciously, but still she dared
not refuse to avail herself of it. She
brought the Bible-Aunt Diana's gift
and sat down quietly by her fathers size.
The voice trembled little as she read,
but she did not know how sweet 1t sound
ed in her fathers ear. Once when she
looked up she found his eyes fixed on her
face, and stopped involuntarily.
"Shall leave off, papa"
"Yes, that will do for tonight; you
may read to me tomorrow. You are SO
like your mother, Alison she was fond
of her Bible, too. You are good girl,
and take after her."
| poor dear mamma How hard it must
be for you, papa, to lie there missing
| her."
| "Ah" he said, averting his face. 1T
| is lifelong loss. l think l never knew
any one so good-not even Diana could
compare with her. Do you know you
reminded me so much of her that day
when you wanted me to go to church.
ed me. All, well ! if ever l get we'll
He paused with a sigh.
You will come with us then, papa,
she said, softly.
II hope so, Alison, but 1 fear it will
be a long time before l have the chance.
When a man has looked death in the face,
as l have, who might have been hurried
into eternity without a moments prepara-
ton, he thinks little more seriously
about things. l hope l am grateful for
being spared think | am. You shall
come and read to me every night if you
like, my dear; it is a grand book, the
Bible"
Alison's heart was too full to answer
him, but as Nurse Meyrick came into
| the room at that moment she leaned over
and kissed his forehead.
Goodnight, dear papa; 1 hope you
will sleep we'll"
Goodnight" he answered. cheerfully,
land give my love to Missile"
Alison felt strangely happy as she left
| her fathers room; it seemed to her as
though they were coming closer to each
other. There had been a look in her
fathers eyes and a caressing tone in his
voice that told her that she was becom-
ing very dear to him. She said to herself
in her young gladness that Providence
had accepted her sacrifce-her fathers
heart was no longer closed to her, and
Mabel was beginning to love her. ASK
and it shall be given to you," was abun-
dainty realized in her case-so true it is
that love begets love, that the Divine seed
of charity sown broadcast. even over bar
rem hearts, will still yield some thirty
fold, some sixty-fold, some hundred-fold.
Alison's tranquil rest that night was
only a preparation for most trying day.
Missile had left her bed for the couch
that afternoon. When Alison had placed
her comfortably, she had gone down
stairs for a few minutes to speak to
Anna, leaving Miss Leigh in charge. Anna
detained her longer than usual-she had
so much to say on the subject of Eva's
approaching marriage. and while Alison
was still talking and listening, Miss Leigh
hurried down stairs with very pale face.
81 wish you would come" she said, in
much agitation mabel is so very hys-
terical l can do nothing with her. Per-
haps have been incautious, but she ques-
toned me so closely as to what the ply
sicians said about her father that could
not avoid telling her.
ooh, dear, what a pity. l meant to
have told her myself when she was bet
ter" observed Alison, somewhat reproach-
fully.
Miss Leigh's tact was often at fault,
and she had chosen an unlucky moment
for breaking the news to Misse-jus
when she was weary with the fatigue of
dressing.
Alison found her in a sad state-sob-
bling bitterly, with her head hidden in
the pillows-and for long time she re-
| fused to allow Alison to raise her into
| lief, Roger entered the room and asked
| Immediately, in his downright manner,
| what was the matter, and why Missile
| was making herself ill.
This brought on a fresh burst.
| "Oh, Roger! what shall l do? Poor
papa"
ct is poor Mabel, I think" observed
Roger, kindly, and he raised the sobbing
little figure in his arms and brought the
wet face into view. II declare, child,
you are perfect Niobe. Allie, what are
| we to do with her?'
| "He will not get up for months-per-
haps for years-and it is all my fault ~
| cried Missile, passionately.
| Perhaps so, my dear, but do you sup
pose all these showers of tears will do
father any good?"
| 81 must cry ought to cry when I
am so unhappy" returned Missile impa-
I tiently, and trying to free herself.
| mo, my dear, no." was Rogers quiet
answer ''you have given us all SO much
trouble that you ought to spare us any
noisy repentance; the best thing you
can do for us all is to get as we'll and
happy as you can, and help to nurse
| father"
CHAPTER XIX.