"I'm very sorry, my boy, but you can't see her to-night."
"Not for jist a minit?"
"No, not to-night."
"She ain't dead, then?"
"No, but she is unconscious."
"Will she get better?"
"I hope so. Now run away and come again to-morrow, and rest satisfied that your little sister will be well taken care of."
"Oh, please," said Benny, making a last appeal, the great tears running down his cheeks the while.
"I cannot let you see her, however willing I might be," said the man. "Now run away, there's a good lad."
"Oh, dear," groaned Benny, as he stepped out into the darkening street. "What shall I do? what shall I do?"