"And who will manage the children—they ought not to remain in the house."
"Don't worry about the children. Get Dorothy as quickly as possible."
Effie buttoned her dress and pinned on her hat, and then went out on the landing.
"Where are you going, child? Why don't you go downstairs?"
"I must kiss father first."
"What folly!—why should there be this delay?"
"I won't be a minute."
Effie turned the handle of the bedroom door, and went softly into the room. Her father was lying on his back—there was a livid look about his face. Great beads of perspiration stood on his brow. His eyes were closed. He did not see Effie when she came into the room, but when she bent down and kissed his forehead, he opened his eyes and looked at her. He said something which she could not distinguish—he was too hoarse to make any words articulate.
"I am going for Dorothy," she said, with a smile,—"she'll soon make you better,—good-by. God bless you—father. I love you—father, I love you."
His eyes smiled at her, but his lips could not speak.