Her sobs distressed him, and, feebly patting her cheek, he said:
"Perhaps if you will sing me something low, I may go to sleep, and I want to hear your voice once more. Sing me that song about the child and the rose-bush, that Hattie likes so much."
"Not that! anything but that! It is too sad, my precious little darling."
"But I want to hear it; please, Edna."
It was a painful task that he imposed, but his wishes ruled her; and she tried to steady her voice as she sang, in a very low, faltering tone, the beautiful, but melancholy ballad. Tears rolled over her face as she chanted the verses; and when she concluded, he repeated very faintly:
"Sweetly it rests, and on dream-wings flies,
To play with the angels in paradise!"
He nestled his lips to hers, and, after a little while, murmured:
"Good-night, Edna!"
"Good-night, my darling!"
She gave him a stimulating potion, and arranged his head comfortably. Ere long his heavy breathing told her that he slept, and, stealing from his side, she sat down in a large chair near the head of his bed, and watched him.