ttage where I
might lodge very cheaply, and earn my livelihood by taking in plain
sewing, and perhaps a little dressmaking; and where I could come and
see you and dear Miss Benson sometimes and bring baby."

"If he was not dead before then of some fever, or burn, or scald,
poor neglected child; or you had not worked yourself to death with
never sleeping," said Miss Benson.

Mr Benson thought a minute or two, and then he spoke to Ruth.

"Whatever you may do when this little fellow is a year old, and able
to dispense with some of a mother's care, let me beg you, Ruth, as
a favour to me--as a still greater favour to my sister, is it not,
Faith?"

"Yes; you may put it so if you like."

"To stay with us," continued he, "till then. When baby is twelve
months old, we'll talk about it again, and very likely before then
some opening may be shown us. Never fear leading an idle life, Ruth.
We'll treat you as a daughter, and set you all the household tasks;
and it is not for your sake that we ask you to stay, but for this
little dumb helpless child's; and it is not for our sake that you
must stay, but for his."

Ruth was sobbing.

"I do not deserve your kindness," said she, in a broken voice; "I do
not deserve it."

Her tears fell fast and soft like summer rain, but no further word
was spoken. Mr Benson quietly passed on to make the inquiry for which
he had entered the room.

But when there was nothing to decide upon, and no necessity for
entering upon any new course of action, Ruth's mind relaxed from
its strung-up state. She fell into trains of reverie, and mournful
regretful recollections which rendered her languid and tearful. This
was noticed both by Miss Benson and Sally, and as each had keen
sympathies, and felt depressed when they saw any one near them
depressed, and as each, without much reasoning on the cause or reason
for such depression, felt irritated at the uncomfortable state into
which they themselves were thrown, they both resolved to speak to
Ruth on the next fitting occasion.

Accordingly, one afternoon--the morning of that day had been spent by
Ruth in housework, for she had insisted on Mr Benson's words, and had
taken Miss Benson's share of the more active and fatiguing household
duties, but she went through them heavily, and as if her heart was
far away--in the afternoon when she was nursing her child, Sally,
on coming into the back parlour, found her there alone, and easily
detected the fact th