ster. He never saw the mother
again, but after days of hushed voices and light steps in the big house,
Aunt Maria had come to take care of them, and they moved away to another
town.

The baby lived and had grown from year to year until she was now past
eight years old, and he had tried his best to take care of her. But she
had never known a mother's love nor a father's. Oh yes, the father was
living. Tom could remember the tall, dark man having once seized him in
his arms and pressed passionate kisses upon his lips, but he had never
seen him caress the little helpless bundle the mother had left when the
angels carried her away. Sometimes it seemed as if he could faintly
recall having heard the father say bitterly to that unconscious babe,
"You have killed your mother." And then it seemed as if a woman's voice
answered him accusingly, "You killed her yourself when you named the
child Tabitha." Tom was fourteen years old now, but some of these
memories were so dim that he could not be sure they were really memories
and not dreams that had come to him in the night and clung, as so often
such fancies do.

There had been no one to ask, for Aunt Maria had not come until later,
and even then, she did not talk to the children very much, so he had
grown accustomed to thinking of these things just to himself. Tabitha
was too young to be made his confidante in such matters; indeed, he
could never tell her some things. They would only make her hate the
austere father more than ever. So he sighed. This was the fifth time
they had moved from one town to another since the mother had died, and
each place was worse than the last. No sooner were they well established
in one city than the restless spirit seized the father and they moved
again. How would it end?

"Do you, Tom? This is the third time I have asked you that."

"I'm sorry, Puss. I was thinking about something else just then. What is
it?"

"Do you s'pose we will ever have any friends? Rosalie says next week
three of her little friends where they used to live are coming to stay
with her until school begins in September; and when she asked me if I
ever had any friends come to visit me, I had to tell her I never had any
friends. She seemed ever so surprised, and I did want to stay in one
place long enough to have some friends. But I s'pose it is my name that
keeps folks from being friends with me. No one would want to say, 'My
chum's name is Tabitha Catt.' Would they? Everyb