"My child—my girl!" Reuben Sharp moaned.
The clergyman approached him, and laid his hand upon him.
"Whom do you want?"
"Mrs. Daker—my—"
The pale lady, full of grief, advanced a step, and looking full in the face of Reuben Sharp, said, "I, sir, am Mrs. Daker."
I had never seen that lady before.
"You!" Sharp shouted, shaking with rage.
But the minister firmly laid his hand upon him now, saying, "Hush! in the chamber of death! His mother is at his bedside; spare her."
At this, a little figure with a ghastly face rose from the farther side of the bed.
"Mrs. Rowe!" I cried.