"Why, Margaret, you must not be hurt, but he was much prettier than you were. I remember, when I first saw you in Dixon's arms, I said, 'Dear, what an ugly little thing!' And she said, 'It's not every child that's like Master Fred, bless him!' Dear! how well I remember it. Then I could have had Fred in my arms every minute of the day, and his cot was close by my bed; and now, now--Margaret--I don't know where my boy is, and sometimes I think I shall never see him again."
Margaret sat down by her mother's sofa on a little stool, and softly took hold of her hand, caressing it and kissing it, as if to comfort. Mrs. Hale cried without restraint. At last, she sat straight, stiff up on the sofa, and turning round to her daughter, she said with tearful, almost solemn earnestness, "Margaret, if I can get better,--if God lets me have a chance of recovery, it must be through seeing my son Frederick once more. It will waken up all the poor springs of health left in me."

'Why, Margaret, you must not be hurt, but he was much prettier than you were. I remember, when I first saw you in Dixon's arms, I said, "Dear, what an ugly little thing!" And she said, "It's not every child that's like Master Fred, bless him!" How well I remember it. I could have had Fred in my arms every minute of the day, and his cot was by my bed; and now - I don't know where my boy is, and sometimes I think I shall never see him again.'
Margaret sat down by her mother, and softly took her hand, caressing and kissing it. Mrs. Hale cried without restraint. At last she sat up, and said with tearful earnestness, 'Margaret, if I can get better, it must be through seeing Frederick once more.'
