iercely. "I'll
tell you what it is, children; I'm off to-night to the Continent, and
that's all the cash I can leave you," and he produced three sovereigns.
"I can't find bread enough for all of us. Raymond _must_ work. I shall
be gone for a month. The place will not be ready for him before that.
When I return he must go immediately."

Madge breathed more freely--there was a month's reprieve, and she
stretched out her hand to Raymond. He clutched it, and held it in a
vice-like grasp.

"Father," he said at last, and his voice was low and hoarse, "I want to
ask you something."

"Well?"

"You are not coming back for a month. If during that time I can sell one
of my pictures, and can hand you over a reasonable sum of money, may I
go on painting?"

His father thought for a moment, then laughed. "Yes, safe enough.
Perhaps you'll know what it is to be hungry before the month's out, and
will be glad enough to leave off your dabbling."

Then he stood up--patted Madge's head--went to the door, and came back
again as if seized with a new impulse--shook hands with Raymond, and
kissed his little daughter's forehead. "Good-bye, children; take care of
yourselves," and he went away. Then Madge came to Raymond's side, and he
laid his head upon her shoulder with a low piteous cry.

"Hush, darling, hush," she whispered. "It will all come right, don't
fear. Let us trust God; he has given you this talent for painting, and
he will teach you how to use it. There's a whole month, and who knows
what may happen in that time! You may become famous." She went on
earnestly; but he took no notice--only pressed his hands tighter and
closer over his throbbing forehead.

"Raymond, I know you will be an artist--a great one--some day,"
whispered Madge.

"Never, never, if I am to be ground down in a shop," he groaned.

[Illustration: THE LITTLE COMFORTER.]

"You will, you will," she answered, throwing her arm round his neck. "If
you keep up a brave, strong heart, and are not discouraged. Nobody can
do anything if they lose heart."

"But to be always, always working, and to have no success. O Madge, it
is so hard and bitter!"

"No success! Why, Raymond, if you'd only heard how the errand-boys
praised the way you had done the workman's basket of tools in the
_Welcome_. It was a success in itself."

In spite of himself Raymond laughed, and Madge was satisfied. She went
on brightly. "Some day I shall be so proud to be the sister of Mr.
Ray