"You wish to drink? Your lips are parched."
She held a glass filled with some cooling beverage to her mouth.
"Have you eaten anything to-day, Caroline?"
"I cannot eat."
"But soon your appetite will return; it _must_ return--that is, I pray God it may."
In laying her again on the couch, she encircled her in her arms; and while so doing, by a movement which seemed scarcely voluntary, she drew her to her heart, and held her close gathered an instant.
"I shall hardly wish to get well, that I may keep you always," said Caroline.
Mrs. Pryor did not smile at this speech. Over her features ran a tremor, which for some minutes she was absorbed in repressing.

"You wish to drink? Your lips are parched." She held a glass to her mouth. "Have you eaten anything today, Caroline?"
"I cannot eat."
"But soon your appetite will return; I pray God it may."
In laying her down again, she encircled her in her arms; and with a movement which seemed scarcely voluntary, she drew her to her heart, and held her close an instant.
"I shall hardly wish to get well, so that I may keep you always," said Caroline.
Mrs. Pryor did not smile. A tremor ran over her features.
