r up."

"My good friends," said Mrs. Clifton, earnestly, "I acknowledge your
claim. I shall not think of asking you to make that sacrifice. I shall
always think of Ida as only a little less yours than mine."

The cooper shook his head.

"But you live in Philadelphia," he said. "We shall lose sight of her."

"Not unless you refuse to come to Philadelphia, too."

"I am a poor man. Perhaps I might not find work there."

"That shall be my care, Mr. Harding. I have another inducement to offer.
God has bestowed upon me a large share of this world's goods. I am
thankful for it since it will enable me in some slight way to express my
sense of your great kindness to Ida. I own a neat brick house, in a
quiet street, which you will find more comfortable than this. Just
before I left Philadelphia, my lawyer, by my directions, drew up a deed
of gift, conveying the house to you. It is Ida's gift, not mine. Ida,
give this to Mr. Harding."

The child took the parchment and handed it to the cooper, who took it
mechanically, quite bewildered by his sudden good fortune.

"This for me?" he said.

"It is the first installment of my debt of gratitude; it shall not be
the last," said Mrs. Clifton.

"How shall I thank you, madam?" said the cooper. "To a poor man, like
me, this is a most munificent gift."

"You will best thank me by accepting it," said Mrs. Clifton. "Let me
add, for I know it will enhance the value of the gift in your eyes, that
it is only five minutes' walk from my house, and Ida will come and see
you every day."

"Yes, mamma," said Ida. "I couldn't be happy away from father and
mother, and Jack and Aunt Rachel."

"You must introduce me to Aunt Rachel," said Mrs. Clifton, with a grace
all her own.

Ida did so.

"I am glad to make your acquaintance, Miss Rachel," said Mrs. Clifton.
"I need not say that I shall be glad to see you, as well as Mr. and Mrs.
Harding, at my house very frequently."

"I'm much obleeged to ye," said Aunt Rachel; "but I don't think I shall
live long to go anywheres. The feelin's I have sometimes warn me that
I'm not long for this world."

"You see, Mrs. Clifton," said Jack, his eyes dancing with mischief, "we
come of a short-lived family. Grandmother died at eighty-two, and that
wouldn't give Aunt Rachel long to live."

"You impudent boy!" exclaimed Aunt Rachel, in great indignation. Then,
relapsing into melancholy: "I'm a poor, afflicted creetur, and the
sooner I leave this scene