dear," said the old man, putting his arm round her. "Now,
I want you to come and be my own little girl, and live with me in the
country."

"And go away from mother?" said Janet, lifting her eyes to his face.

"Yes; come and be mine, and perhaps I'd bring you to see your mother
sometimes."

Janet looked away to her mother, and saw that her eyes were full of
tears; then she sprang into her mother's arms and hid her face on her
shoulder.

"I will promise to take all care of her," said the old man; "and the
country would do her all the good in the world."

"I can't leave mother! no, no, no!" sobbed little Janet.

"I would adopt her for my own, and provide for her liberally," said Mr.
Smith. "Come, Mrs. Shipton, you're a sensible woman, you know how much
better it would be for your child."

"I cannot give her up, sir," said the mother anxiously; "she is too
young to leave me."

"Well, then, may I have Ellen?"

Ellen shrank to her mother's side. "No, no!" she whispered. A
disappointed look crossed the old man's face. "Come, Mrs. Shipton, you
are slaving your life away for these children, will you lose so good a
chance of providing for one of them?"

"I'll go if I ought, mother, if it would be better for you and the
others," said Ellen bravely; but she put her hands over her face, that
her mother might not see how much those words cost her.

"No, sir," said the widow firmly, as she drew her children closely to
her; "God has given me these children, and he will give me the means of
keeping them."

Mr. Smith cleared his throat violently.

"Well, then," he muttered, "I suppose I must live and
die--lonely--lonely."

Mrs. Shipton's eye wandered wistfully to Maurice, who was looking on
with eyes full of wonder.

"Sir, you are very, very kind," she said, and then paused.

"Don't talk of it--I can't get what I want," said the old man.

"I cannot bear giving up one of them," said the widow; "but there's
Maurice,--the child is ill, I believe he will die here in the town, but
he might live in the country; will you take him, sir?" and then, having
said thus much, Mrs. Shipton quite broke down, and hid her face among
Janet's curls.

At this moment the conversation was interrupted by a scream from
Maurice, as the door was opened, and a boy in a sailor's dress stood
amongst them.

"Alan!"

"My boy, my boy!" and Mrs. Shipton held out her arms to him.

[Illustration: ALAN'S RETURN.]

Mr. Smith looked at him for a