Mrs. Rocke approached her and said: "It must be so, dear girl, for you know that there are some cases in which sick men should be watched by men only, and this is one of them. I myself shall sit up to-night in the next room, within call."
"And may I not sit there beside you?" pleaded Clara.
"No, my dear love; as you can do your father no good, he desires that you should go to bed and rest. Do not distress him by refusing."
"Oh, and am I to go to bed and sleep while my dear father lies here suffering? I cannot; oh, I cannot."
"My dear, yes, you must; and if you cannot sleep you can lie awake and pray for him."
Here the doctor, whose agony was growing unendurable, called out:
"Go, Clara, go at once, my dear."
She went back to the bedside and pressed her lips to his forehead, and put her arms around him and prayed:
"Oh, my dear father, may the blessed Saviour take you in his pitying embrace and give you ease to-night. Your poor Clara will pray for you as she never prayed for herself."
"May the Lord bless you, my sweet child," said the doctor, lifting one hand painfully and laying it in benediction on her fair and graceful head.