And every time she read it, Mary found herself understanding it better.

It was gradually growing very precious.
Her father had made no remark; but, when she lifted her eyes from the sixth reading, she saw that his face shone, and, as the last words left her lips, he took up the line like a refrain, and repeated it after her: "'Triumphing over death, and chance, and thee, O Time!' "That will do now, Mary, I thank you," he said.

"I have got a good hold of it, I think, and shall be able to comfort myself with it when I wake in the night.

The man must have been very like the apostle Paul." He said no more.

The tea was brought, and he drank a cup of it, but could not eat; and, as he could not, neither could Mary.
"I want a long sleep," he said; and the words went to his child's heart--she dared not question herself why.