desk, with the wish that she had mentioned her destination, then dismissed it from his mind. At the identical moment Doctor Gardiner was reading Miss Rogers' letter, quite a pitiful scene was being enacted in the home of the old basket-maker. It was with a shudder that he awoke and found the sunshine which heralded another day stealing into his narrow little room. Bernardine had been stirring about for some time, and at length the savory odor of the frugal breakfast she was preparing reached him, and at that moment she called him. When he made his appearance she saw at a glance that he must have passed a sleepless night. He had no appetite and pushed away the plate with his food untouched, despite Bernardine's earnest efforts to induce him to eat something. He watched her deft fingers in silence as she cleared the table at length, washed and dried the dishes and put them away, and tidied the little room. "Now, father," she said, at length, "the sun is shining now, and I will give you half an hour of my time to listen to the story you have to tell me. Don't look so distressed about it, dear; no matter what it is, I will utter no word of complaint, you shall hear no bitter words from my lips, only words of love, trust, and comfort." "Tell me that again, Bernardine," he cried; "say it over again. Those words are like the dew of Heaven to my feverish soul." She uttered the words again, with her soft white arms twined lovingly around his neck, and she held them there until he came to the end of his wretched story. "Bernardine," he began, softly, with a pitiful huskiness in his voice, "I rely on your promise. You have given me your word, and I know you will never break it. Don't look at me. Let me turn my face away from the sight of the horror in your eyes as you listen. There, that is right; let my poor whirling head rest on your strong young shoulder." It happened only a few weeks ago, Bernardine," he continued, brokenly, "this tragedy which has wrecked my life. One night--ah! how well I remember it--even while I lie dying, it will stand out dark and horrible from the rest of my life--I--I could not withstand the craving for drink which took possession of me, and after you slept, I stole softly from my couch and out of the house. The few dimes I had in my