"Yes, Benny, I'll soon be better, but not as you mean it. I's going to Jesus, and shall never have no more cough, nor feel no more pain."
"Oh, no! you's going to get better. I axed the Lord last night to make you better an' let you stay."
"No, Benny, I shan't stay long. I's known it for months, an' I's willin' to go, 'cause I know as how the Lord will take care of you."
"But I canna let you go," said Benny, sobbing louder than ever.
Then the nurse came forward, and laid her hand upon his shoulder. "You must not excite your sister," she said kindly, "for that is not the way to make her better."
"Oh, but she's all I has," he sobbed.
"Yes, poor boy, I know," she replied. "But if your sister leaves you she'll be better off, and will not have to tramp the streets in the cold and wet; so you must think that what is your loss will be her gain."
Nelly raised her eyes to the nurse with a grateful look for talking to Benny in that way. And before he left he had grown calm, and seemingly resigned. It was a painful parting; but Nelly did her best to cheer him up, reminding him that in two days he would be able to come and see her again.
Granny was in great trouble at the absence of the children, and it was no small relief to her when, about noon, Benny put in an appearance at Tempest Court. One look at his face, however, was sufficient to convince her that something had happened, and when Benny told her what had befallen his little Nell, the old woman sat down and cried; for she knew very well that never more would the little face brighten the dingy court. And granny had got to love the sweet, patient little child as her own; and though for months she had been convinced that the little flower was marked to fall, yet it had come in a way she had not expected, and, like Benny, she felt it very hard to give her up.
After dinner Benny went out again to face the world. It was with a very sad heart that he did it; for he felt that from henceforth he would have to fight the battle of life alone.