he became, as he laughingly boasted, "a householder, not a forlorn,
down-trodden boarder!"

Their family, besides themselves, then consisted of one little girl and
Lawrence's beloved old mother, and he had a room to study in in peace,
and the two women talked and planned endlessly about curtains and
furniture, and--oh, well, about some more very small garments that would,
God willing, be needed before a very great while. And one day Lawrence
looked about his little table, and said: "It's too good, it can't last,
it can't!" and the women kissed him and laughed at him; yet all the time
he was right, it did not last. An awful bolt seemed to fall from the blue
sky. It was one of those pitiful disasters that sometimes come upon the
very old--particularly to those who have endured much, suffered much, as
had the elder Mrs. Barrett in the past.

I wept as I heard the story of the devoted son's dry-eyed agony, of the
awful fears his condition aroused in the minds of those close to him, and
then suddenly she, the wife, had been stricken down, and her danger and
that of the tiny babe had brought him to his old self again.

He worked on then for some months, grateful for the sparing of his dear
ones, when quite suddenly and painlessly the stricken old mother passed
from sleep to life everlasting. Then when Joseph was to be summoned--Joe
who worshipped the mother's footprint in the dust--he was not to be
found. He had fallen again into disgrace, had been discharged, had
disappeared, no one knew whither.

"Oh, dear Father!" cried Mrs. Barrett, "what did not Lawrence suffer for
Joe! knowing what his agony would be when he knew all--but we could do no
more. The funeral took place. White as marble, Lawrence sent us all
home, and himself waited till the last clod of earth was piled upon the
grave; then waited till the men had gone, waited to kneel and pray a
moment before leaving the old mother there alone. And as he knelt he
noted how nearly dark it was, and thought he must not linger long or the
gates would be locked upon him. As he rose from his knees, he was
startled to see, through the dusk, a tall form coming toward him. It
would dodge behind a monument, and after a moment's pause would come a
little nearer. Suddenly the drooping, lurching figure became familiar to
him. With a groan he hid himself behind a tombstone and waited--waited
until suspicion became certainty, and he knew that the bent, weary
funeral guest was his brot