ty.'

'I see,' said Violet, thoughtfully. 'Oh, I hope I shall do right. One
thing I should like. I mean, I thought one ought to set apart something
for giving away.'

'That is one use in reserving something for yourself,' said John, in his
kindest manner. 'Of the rest, you are only Arthur's steward.'

'Yes, I hope I shall manage well.'

'You will if you keep your present frame of mind.'

'But I am so young and ignorant. I did not think enough about it when I
was married,' said Violet, sorrowfully, 'and how it seems all to come
on me. To have all his comfort and the well-being of a whole house
depending on such as I am.'

'I can only say one thing in answer, Violet, what I know was the best
comfort to one who, without it, would have sunk under the weight of
responsibility.' His whole countenance altered, his voice gave way, a
distressing fit of coughing came on, the colour flushed into his face,
and he pressed his hand on his chest. Violet was frightened, but it
presently ceased, and after sitting for a few moments, exhausted, with
his head resting on his hand, he took up the pencil, and wrote down--'As
thy day, so shall thy strength be'--pushed it towards her, and slowly
left the room.

Violet shed a few tears over the paper, and was the more grieved when
she heard of his being confined to his room by pain in the side. She
told Arthur what had passed. 'Ah! poor John,' he said, 'he never can
speak of Helen, and any agitation that brings on that cough knocks him
up for the rest of the day. So he has been trying to "insense" you, has
he? Very good-natured of him.'

'I am so grieved. I was afraid it would be painful to him. But what was
the responsibility he spoke of?'

'Looking after her grandfather, I suppose. He was imbecile all
the latter part of his life. Poor John, they were both regularly
sacrificed.'

John took the opportunity of a visit from his father that afternoon to
tell him how much good sense and right feeling Violet had shown, and
her reluctance to appropriate to herself what he had insisted on as
absolutely necessary.

'That is only inexperience, poor girl,' said Lord Martindale. 'She does
not know what she will want. If it is not confidential, I should like to
know what she allows herself.'

John mentioned the sum.

'That is mere nonsense!' exclaimed his father. 'It is not half as much
as Theodora has! And she living in London, and Arthur making such a
point about her dress. I thought you