lord, angrily. "I won't be preached to in this way any longer."
"Oh, well; then don't interfere with my movements, Simon; that's all I have to say. I'm needed over there, as I just said, and I'm going."
There were considerable odds against him, and Slade, perceiving this, turned off, mutter ing something that his wife did not hear, and she went on her way. A hurried walk brought her to the wretched home of the poor drunkard, whose wife met her at the door.
"How is Mary?" was the visitor's earnest inquiry.
Mrs. Morgan tried to answer the question; but, though her lips moved, no sounds issued therefrom.
Mrs. Slade pressed her hands tightly in both of hers; and then passed in with her to the room where the child lay. A glance sufficed to tell Mrs. Slade that death had already laid his icy fingers upon her brow.
