Father says, nothing will harm us, except being naughty.

Did you not, father ?" John snatched his little daughter up to his bosom, and called her for the hundredth time the name my poor old father had named her--the "blessed" child.
We all grew calmer; the mother wept a little, and it did her good: we comforted the boys and Muriel, telling them that in truth nothing was the matter, only we were afraid of their catching the little lad's sickness, and they must not go near him.
"Yes; she shall quit the house this minute--this very minute," said the mother, sternly, but with a sort of wildness too.
Her husband made no immediate answer; but as she rose to leave the room, he detained her.

"Ursula, do you know the child is all but dying ?" "Let him die! The wicked woman! She knew it, and she let me bring him among my children--my own poor children!" "I would she had never come.

But what is done, is done.

Love, think--if YOU were turned out of doors this bleak, rainy night--with a dying child." "Hush! hush!"-- She sank down with a sob.
"My darling!" whispered John, as he made her lean against him--her support and comfort in all things: "do you think my heart is not ready to break, like yours?
But I trust in God.