Anty was a good deal exhausted¹ by her interview with her brother, but towards evening she rallied a little, and told Jane, who was sitting with her, that she wanted to say one word in private, to Martin.

Jane was rather surprised, for though Martin was in the habit of going into the room every morning to see the invalid², Anty had never before asked for him. However, she went for Martin, and found him.

‘Martin,’ said she; ‘Anty wants to see you alone, in private.’

‘Me?’ said Martin, turning a little red. ‘Do you know what it’s about?’

‘She didn’t say a word, only she wanted to see you alone; but I’m thinking it’s something about her brother; he was with her a long long time this morning, and went away more like a dead man than a live one. But come, don’t keep her waiting; and, whatever you do, don’t stay long; every word she spakes is killing³ her.’

Martin followed his sister into the sick-room, and, gently taking Anty’s offered hand, asked her in a whisper, what he could do for her. Jane went out; and, to do her justice sat herself down at a distance from the door, though she was in a painful state of curiosity as to what was being said within.

‘You’re all too good to me, Martin,’ said Anty; ‘you’ll spoil me, between you, minding every word I say so quick.’

Martin assured her again, in a whisper, that anything and everything they could do for her was only a pleasure.

‘Don’t mind whispering,’ said Anty; ‘spake out; your voice won’t hurt me. I love to hear your voices, they’re all so kind and good. But Martin, I’ve business you must do for me, and that at once, for I feel within me that I’ll soon he gone from this.’

‘We hope not, Anty; but it’s all with God now isn’t it? No one knows that betther than yourself.’

‘Oh yes, I do know that; and I feel it is His pleasure that it should be so, and I don’t fear to die. A few weeks back the thoughts of death, when they came upon me, nearly killed me; but that feeling’s all gone now.’

Martin did not know what answer to make; he again told her he hoped she would soon get better. It is a difficult task to talk properly to a dying person about death, and Martin felt that he was quite

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