She is a tender plant, John, too weak to grow alone.

Promise me that you will do right by her--promise it ?" "I do promise it," John Girdlestone answered in a deep voice.

He was standing up now, and leaning over to catch the words of the dying man.
Harston was sinking rapidly.

With a feeble motion he pointed to a brown-backed volume upon the table.
"Take up the book," he said.
The merchant picked it up.
"Now, repeat after me, I swear and solemnly pledge myself--" "I swear and solemnly pledge myself-- "To treasure and guard as if she were my own--" came the tremulous voice from the bed.
"To treasure and guard as if she were my own--" in the deep bass of the merchant.
"Kate Harston, the daughter of my deceased friend--" "Kate Harston, the daughter of my deceased friend--" "And as I treat her, so may my own flesh and blood treat me!" "And as I treat her, so may my own flesh and blood treat me!" The sick man's head fell back exhausted upon his pillow.

"Thank God!" he muttered, "now I can die in peace." "Turn your mind away from the vanities and dross of this world," John Girdlestone said sternly, "and fix it upon that which is eternal, and can never die." "Are you going ?" the invalid asked sadly, for he had taken up his hat and stick.
"Yes, I must go; I have an appointment in the City at six, which I must not miss." "And I have an appointment which I must not miss," the dying man said with a feeble smile.
"I shall send up the nurse as I go down," Girdlestone said.
"Good-bye!" "Good-bye! God bless you, John!" The firm, strong hand of the hale man enclosed for a moment the feeble, burning one of the sufferer.