It's time for that now, according to the doctor's directions." She rang for refreshment, saw him take it, then left him for a short time in the care of old Aunt Phillis, while she donned riding hat and habit, mounted her pony, and flew over several miles of road and back again.
She seemed to bring a breath of fresh air with her when she returned to his side.
"My darling," he said, smiling up at her, "how the roses glow on your cheeks, and how bright your eyes are! Give me a kiss, and then sit down close by my side." "I obey both orders most willingly," she said merrily, as she bent down and kissed him on lips and forehead and cheek, then took possession of the chair she had vacated on leaving the room.
"Now, sir, what next ?" "Move your chair round a trifle, so that I can have a better view of your face." She smilingly obeyed.

"There! does that satisfy your lordship ?" "Quite.

Now talk to me." "About what ?" "Any thing you please: the principal thing is to hear the music of your voice." "Suppose I sing, then." "Yes, yes!" eagerly; "that's just what I should enjoy.

Let it be, 'I love to tell the story.'" Zoe had a beautiful voice.

Soft and sweet and clear it rose,-- "'I love to tell the story Of unseen things above, Of Jesus and his glory, Of Jesus and his love.
I love to tell the story, Because I know it's true: It satisfies my longings As nothing else can do.
"I love to tell the story: 'Twill be my theme in glory, To tell the old, old story, Of Jesus and his love.
"I love to tell the story: More wonderful it seems, Than all the golden fancies Of all our golden dreams.
I love to tell the story, It did so much for me; And that is just the reason I tell it now to thee.
"I love to tell the story; 'Tis pleasant to repeat What seems, each time I tell it, More wonderfully sweet.
I love to tell the story, For some have never heard The message of salvation From God's own Holy Word.
"I love to tell the story; For those who know it best, Seem hungering and thirsting To hear it like the rest.
And when in scenes of glory, I sing the new, new song, 'Twill be the old, old story, That I have loved so long.'" The last note died away, and for a moment there was silence in the room.
Edward lay gazing into his wife's eyes with a look of sad, yearning tenderness.
"O Ned! why, why do you look so at me ?" she asked, with a sudden burst of tears, and dropping her face on the pillow beside his.