"To treasure and guard as if she were my own—" came the tremulous voice from the bed.
"To treasure and guard as if she were my own—" in the deep bass of the merchant.
"Kate Harston, the daughter of my deceased friend—"
"Kate Harston, the daughter of my deceased friend—"
"And as I treat her, so may my own flesh and blood treat me!"
"And as I treat her, so may my own flesh and blood treat me!"
The sick man's head fell back exhausted upon his pillow. "Thank God!" he muttered, "now I can die in peace."
"Turn your mind away from the vanities and dross of this world," John Girdlestone said sternly, "and fix it upon that which is eternal, and can never die."
"Are you going?" the invalid asked sadly, for he had taken up his hat and stick.
"Yes, I must go; I have an appointment in the City at six, which I must not miss."