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��MARY'S REWARD.

��with mamma and me this once, please." The sweet, pleading face of the girl is raised eagerly to her brother's as she gently seeks to detain him, one slender hand resting lightly upon his arm, the other resting upon the back of the chair he has just vacated. Gently, but with decision, Eugene Ross withdraws from the hand that would detain him, and turns half impatiently away from the sweet girl. Her eyes fill with tears and her rosebud lips quiver with suppressed emotion as she turns away and seats her- self by the window and watches her brother until his tall, manly form is lost to view. When she could no longer dis- cern him she arose, and hastily brushing aside the tears which in spite of her ef- forts to the contrary, had forced them- selves down her cheeks, she drew the snowy curtains closely about the win- dows, replenished the fire and lit the lamp, tidying up the little room with a touch here and there, such as only true housekeepers understand giving, and drawing a small work-table nearer the fire, seated herself in a low sewing chair, and taking some unfinished work from a work-basket near by, she plied her nee- dle rapidly. At length the door opens and a tall, slender lady enters the j-oom. "Ah, mamma! I am so glad you have come. Have you finished your letters? " Yes, Mary, and I am very tired. This cough is wearing upon me fearfully. I find my strength is growing less daily. J wish I were back at the old homestead ; it seems as if I could gain new life there."

There was an anxious look in the girl's face as she raised her blue eyes to the pale face before her, and the ominous cough, which at that moment reached her ear, did not tend to reassure her.

Your medicine is not having any effect upon you. I must call another physi- cian to-morrow, dear mamma," said she. A sad smile passed over the lady's face as she replied :

"My child, I fear it will avail little. However, if it will give you any satisfac- tion, I shall not object. Where is Eu- gene?"

" He has gone to the club, mamma," replied Mary quietly. There was not a

��trace of the anxiety she felt in the sweet tones of her voice. Her mother was dy- ing — slowly but surely dying. She had known this for months. She had watched the color fade out of the dear face and the deep-blue eyes grow dim. She had taken all the care of the house- hold upon herself, and now if this terri- ble trouble was to come home to them — her brother's unsteady habits made this fear almost a certainty — she must keep the knowledge of it from her suffering mother as long as possible. She must save him. This was the one thought that filled her heart through the day and haunted her dreams at night. Not even the knowledge of her mother's rapid de- cay could cause her such bitter, poignant grief as that which filled her loving, ten- der heart at the thought that this broth- er, loved as only a brother can love, with a pure, unselfish, heartfelt love, was slowly but at the same time surely tread- ing the path that leads to the drunkard's grave. Mary had cheated herself into believing that her mother was ignorant of the true state of affairs, therefore when Mrs. Ross spoke, after a silence of sev- eral moments, her words filled Mary's heart, already aching with its burden of sorrow, with deeper anxiety than before.

"Mary, I fear that Eugene is getting very unsteady. How seldom he passes an evening at home. Once or twice I have detected the scent of liquor upon his return home at night. I have not spoken to you before for I would not needlessly alarm you, but I feel that I must say, must do, something to save him. Oh, that we had never left Maple- wood farm ! "

Mary's head had sunk down upon her clasped hands at her mother's words, and for a moment she made no reply, then she raised her eyes to her mother's face and tried to speak cheerfully as she re- plied :

" I hope that you are mistaken, mam- ma ! I know that Eugene seldom passes an evening with us, but nevertheless I do not wish to judge him harshly. He finds life in the city so different from our quiet country habits, I do not wonder he likes to go out with his young friends."

" Well,jMary, you may be right ; I hope

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