don't let us think of that, let us think of the money we
shall get, and all the good it will do our little Maurice. Poor child!
how pale he looks there on the rug!"

"He looks like father did," said Janet, the second daughter, who was
cutting out the pattern by her mother's side. A shudder passed through
Mrs. Shipton's frame, and for one moment she raised her hand to her
face with an expression of pain.

"Janet, don't say that," whispered Ellen. "It hurts mother."

Janet looked up. "Mother, dear, I didn't mean it. I didn't mean so bad.
Maurice is better than he was, isn't he? He had quite a colour this
morning, and was not so tired as he was yesterday; and by the time Alan
comes home, I expect he will be quite well."

Her mother put her work down for a minute, and laid her hand upon
Janet's fair hair--

"My good little girl, I didn't think you meant to pain me, and I know
how you love your little brother. You both help me beautifully in taking
care of him, and if it's God's will I think he will get quite well--but
he sadly wants care. If your dear grandmother was alive, I'd send him
into the country to her for a little bit, to my old home. I know _that_
fresh air would soon make him well again."

"Mother, I'd like to see your home. The house with the roses growing
over it, and the school where grandmother taught, and the church, and
the green fields, and the hills, and the--"

"Hush, Janet; here's the old gentleman."

Mr. Smith came in and sat down. First he cleared his throat, then
settled his stiff cravat, crossed his legs, and looked round on the
little party.

"Girls go to school, Mrs.--what's your name?"

"Shipton, sir, Mrs. Shipton. No, sir, my little girls stop at home and
help me."

"Help, hum! not much help in them, never is in town girls--think of
nothing but lark and fine dresses. Do they earn anything?"

"No, sir, not yet; they will by-and-by, but I think they do quite enough
now in helping me."

"Hum! got any more children, Mrs. Shipton?"

"One boy at sea, sir."

"At sea!--ran away?"

"No!" burst indignantly from Janet and Ellen; "he went because he got a
good chance; and he didn't like going, but he said he wouldn't stop and
burden mother."

"He's a good son, sir--my boy Alan!" said the mother proudly.

"Alan!" said the old man, lingering on the name; "why do you call him
that?"

"It was his father's name, sir," said the widow, as she bent her head
lower over her work.

Ellen no