"Try to tell me a little more, dear papa. Where was it you heard it?" trying in vain to think what had called forth this request.
"At Dr. Grant's church that Sunday morning in Halifax. You know—the new singer you wanted to hear. I know all about the 'pastures green' now, Dexie, but sing about it."
Instantly the Sunday morning so long ago flashed back to her mind, and with one arm around her father's neck, as she kneeled by his side, she sang:
"The Lord's my Shepherd, I'll not want.
He makes me down to lie
In pastures green; he leadeth me
The quiet waters by."
Her voice trembled, but there was a happy ring to it withal, and presently she saw that he slept again, his face looking happy and peaceful as it rested on the pillows.
When the doctor made his usual visit, he stayed a long time in the room, and he looked very serious as he called Dexie to the door.
"You realize how ill your father is, do you not, Miss Sherwood?" and he looked earnestly into her face. "Ah! I see you do. I wished to prepare you for the worst. I will come in later in the day and see if I can be of use."
"You think there is immediate danger, Dr. Brown?"
"He may live through the day—not much longer, I fear. You have been expecting this, have you not?"
"I was afraid of it," and she hid her face in her hands.