There was a knock at the door, but no voice bade the applicant for admission enter.

It was repeated; but, if heard, it met no response.

Then the latch was lifted, the door swung open, and the tailor stepped into the room.

The sound of his feet aroused the passive sisters.

The white face of Mary was to him, at first, a startling image of death; but her large bright eyes opened and turned upon him with an assurance that life still lingered in its earthly tenement.
"Ellen, Ellen," said the sick girl, faintly.
Ellen, too, had heard the sound of footsteps on the floor, and she now raised up slowly, and presented to Lawson her sad, tearful countenance.
"I was wrong to speak to you as I did," said the tailor without preface, advancing towards the bed and holding out to Ellen the money she had earned.