But I cannot endure this--this hopefulness of yours." "Why?
What harm does it do ?" "Harm ?" echoed the mother.
Pending the effort she must make in saying, the girl cut in: "Yes, harm.
You've kept your despair dusted off and ready for use at an instant's notice ever since we came, and what good has it done?
I'm going to keep on hoping to the bitter end.

That's what papa did." It was what the Rev.Archibald Leighton had done with all the consumptive's buoyancy.

The morning he died he told them that now he had turned the point and was really going to get well.

The cheerfulness was not only in his disease, but in his temperament.

Its excess was always a little against him in his church work, and Mrs.Leighton was right enough in feeling that if it had not been for the ballast of her instinctive despondency he would have made shipwreck of such small chances of prosperity as befell him in life.