\"papa is out! and what then? do you mean that he would deny me thislast wish, margaret? why, i should not be ill--be dying--if he had nottaken me away from helstone, to this unhealthy, smoky, sunless place.\"

\"oh, mamma!\" said margaret.

\"yes; it is so, indeed. he knows it himself; he has said so many a time.

he would do anything for me; you don\"t mean he would refuse me thislast wish-- prayer, if you will. and, indeed, margaret, the longing to seefrederick stands between me and god. i cannot pray till i hāve this onething; indeed, i cannot. don\"t lose time, dear, dear margaret. write bythis very next post. then he may be here--here in twenty-two days! forhe is sure to e. no cords or chains can keep him. in twenty-twodays i shall see my boy.\" she fell back, and for a short time she took nonotice of the fact that margaret sat motionless, her hand shading hereyes.

\"you are not writing!\" said her mother at last \"bring me some pens andpaper; i will try and write myself.\" she sat up, trembling all over withfeverish eagerness. margaret took her hand down and looked at hermother sadly.

\"only wait till papa es in. let us ask him how best to do it.\"

\"you promised, margaret, not a quarter of an hour ago;--you said heshould e.\"

\"and so he shall, mamma; don\"t cry, my own dear mother. i\"ll writehere, now,--you shall see me write,--and it shall go by this very post;and if papa thinks fit, he can write again when he es in,--it is only aday\"s delay. oh, mamma, don\"t cry so pitifully,--it cuts me to the heart.\"

mrs. hale could not stop her tears; they came hysterically; and, in truth,she made no effort to control them, but rather called up all the picturesof the happy past, and the probable future--painting the scene when sheshould lie a corpse, with the son she had longed to see in life weepingover her, and she unconscious of his presence--till she was melted byself-pity into a state of sobbing and exhaustion that made margaret\"sheart ache. but at last she was calm, and greedily watched her daughter,

as she began her letter; wrote it with swift urgent entreaty; sealed it uphurriedly, for fear her mother should ask to see it: and then, to makesecurity most sure, at mrs. hale\"s own bidding, took it herself to thepost-office. she was ing home when her father overtook her.

\"and where hāve you been, my pretty maid?\" asked he.

\"to the post-office,--with a letter; a letter to frederick. oh, papa,perhaps i hāve done wrong: but mamma was seized with such apassionate yearning to see him--she said it would make her well again,-andthen she said that she must see him before she died,--i cannot tellyou how urgent she was! did i do wrong?\"