nging round the white brow with the furrows
of pain in it, the purple-veined lids closed over the great bright blue
eyes, the long fingers hanging limp and delicate as a lady's, the limbs
stretched helplessly on the couch, whither it cost him so much pain to be
daily moved. Who would have thought, that not six months ago that poor
cripple was the merriest and most active boy in the parish?

The room was not a sad-looking one. There were spotless white dimity
curtains round the lattice window; and the little bed, and the walnut of
the great chest, and of the doors of the press-bed on which Alfred lay,
shone with dark and pale grainings. There was a carpet on the floor, and
the chairs had chintz cushions; the walls were as white as snow, and
there were pretty china ornaments on the mantel-piece, many little
pictures hanging upon the walls, and quite a shelf of books upon the
white cloth, laid so carefully on the top of the drawers. A little table
beside Alfred held a glass with a few flowers, a cup with some toast and
water, a volume of the 'Swiss Family Robinson;' and a large book of
prints of animals was on a chair where he could reach it.

A larger table was covered with needle-work, shreds of lining, scissors,
tapes, and Ellen's red work-box; and she herself sat beside it, a very
nice-looking girl of about seventeen, tall and slim, her lilac dress and
white collar fitting beautifully, her black apron sitting nicely to her
trim waist, and her light hair shining, like the newly-wound silk of the
silk-worm, round her pleasant face; where the large, clear, well-opened
blue eyes, and the contrast of white and red on the cheek, were a good
deal like poor Alfred's, and gave an air of delicacy.

Their father had been, as their mother said, 'the handsomest coachman who
ever drove to St. James's;' but he had driven thither once too often; he
had caught his death of cold one bitter day when Lady Jane Selby was
obliged to go to a drawing-room, and had gone off in a deep decline
fourteen years ago, when the youngest of his five children was not six
weeks old.

The Selby family were very kind to Mrs. King, who, besides her husband's
claims on them, had been once in service there; and moreover, had nursed
Miss Jane, the little heiress, Ellen's foster-sister. By their help she
had been able to use her husband's savings in setting up a small shop,
where she sold tea, tobacco and snuff, tape, cottons, and such little
matters, b