he kitchen brought his wife somewhat hurriedly
from the room where she had been with Maggie. Joe thought it best
not to refer to the child, nor to manifest any concern in regard to
her.

"How soon will supper be ready?" he asked.

"Right soon," answered Mrs. Thompson, beginning to bustle about.
There was no asperity in her voice.

After washing from his hands and face the dust and soil of work, Joe
left the kitchen, and went to the little bedroom. A pair of large
bright eyes looked up at him from the snowy bed; looked at him
tenderly, gratefully, pleadingly. How his heart swelled in his
bosom! With what a quicker motion came the heart-beats! Joe sat
down, and now, for the first time, examining the thin free carefully
under the lamp light, saw that it was an attractive face, and full
of a childish sweetness which suffering had not been able to
obliterate.

"Your name is Maggie?" he said, as he sat down and took her soft
little hand in his.

"Yes, sir." Her voice struck a chord that quivered in a low strain
of music.

"Have you been sick long?"

"Yes, sir." What a sweet patience was in her tone!

"Has the doctor been to see you?"

"He used to come."

"But not lately?"

"No, sir."

"Have you any pain?"

"Sometimes, but not now."

"When had you pain?"

"This morning my side ached, and my back hurt when you carried me."

"It hurts you to be lifted or moved about?"

"Yes, sir."

"Your side doesn't ache now?"

"No, sir."

"Does it ache a great deal?"

"Yes, sir; but it hasn't ached any since I've been on this soft
bed."

"The soft bed feels good."

"O, yes, sir--so good!" What a satisfaction, mingled with gratitude,
was in her voice!

"Supper is ready," said Mrs. Thompson, looking into the room a
little while afterwards.

Joe glanced from his wife's face to that of Maggie; she understood
him, and answered,--

"She can wait until we are done; then I will bring her somethings to
eat." There was an effort at indifference on the part of Mrs.
Thompson, but her husband had seen her through the window, and
understood that the coldness was assumed. Joe waited, after sitting
down to the table, for his wife to introduce the subject uppermost
in both of their thoughts; but she kept silent on that theme, for
many minutes, and he maintained a like reserve. At last she said,
abruptly,--

"What are you going to do with that child?"

"I thought you understood me that she was to go to the poorhouse,"