A door opened and Jack stood on the threshold of
the lighted room.
"Is that you, mother?"
"Yes, dear; your father is coming up."
The boy came forward to help, but his mother whispered, "He'd rather come
up by himself."
William had just strength to walk into the room; they gave him a chair,
and he fell back exhausted. He looked around, and seemed pleased to see
his home again. Esther gave him some milk, into which she had put a little
brandy, and he gradually revived.
"Come this way, Jack; I want to look at you; come into the light where I
can see you."
"Yes, father."
"I haven't long to see you, Jack. I wanted to be with you and your mother
in our own home. I can talk a little now: I may not be able to to-morrow."
"Yes, father."
"I want you to promise me, Jack, that you'll never have nothing to do with
racing and betting. It hasn't brought me or your mother any luck."
"Very well, father."
"You promise me, Jack. Give me your hand. You promise me that, Jack."
"Yes, father, I promise."
"I see it all clearly enough now. Your mother, Jack, is the best woman in
the world. She loved you better than I did. She worked for you--that is a
sad story. I hope you'll never hear it."
Husband and wife looked at each other, and in that look the wife promised
the husband that the son should never know the story of her desertion.
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