e an exceedingly loud and bitter groan.
It betrayed all his pride in and ambition for his daughter and his
disgust and disappointment over himself. "Oh! my God, has it come to
this," he groaned, "that I cannot support my one child!"

Fanny laid down her work and looked at him. "Now, Andrew," said she,
"there's no use in your taking it after such a fashion as this. I
told Ellen that it was all nonsense--that she could stay at home and
rest this summer."

"I guess, if she can't--" said Andrew. He dropped his gray head into
his hands, and began to sob dryly. Fanny, after staring at him a
moment, tossed her work onto the floor, went over to him, and drew
his head to her shoulder.

"There, old man," said she, "ain't you ashamed of yourself? I told
her there was no need for her to worry at present. Don't do so,
Andrew; you've done the best you could, and I know it, if I stop to
think, though I do seem sort of impatient sometimes. You've always
worked hard and done your best. It ain't your fault."

"I don't know whether it is or not," said Andrew, in a high,
querulous voice like a woman's. "It seems as if it must be
somebody's fault. If it ain't my fault, whose is it? You can't blame
the Almighty."

"Maybe it ain't anybody's fault."

"It must be. All that goes wrong is somebody's fault. It can't be
that it just happens--that would be worse than the other. It is
better to have a God that is cruel than one that don't care, and it
is better to be to blame yourself, and have it your fault, than His.
Somehow, I have been to blame, Fanny. I must have. It would have
been enough sight better for you, Fanny, if you'd married another
man."

"I didn't want another man," replied Fanny, half angrily, half
tenderly. "You make me all out of patience, Andrew Brewster. What's
the need of Ellen going to work right away? Maybe by-and-by she can
get an easy school. Then, we've got that money in the bank."

Andrew looked away from her with his face set. Fanny did not know
yet about his withdrawal of the money for the purpose of investing
in mining-stocks. He never looked at her but the guilty secret
seemed to force itself between them like a wedge of ice.

"Then Grandma Brewster has got a little something," said Fanny.

"Only just enough for herself," said Andrew. Then he added,
fiercely, "Mother can't be stinted of her little comforts even for
Ellen."

"I 'ain't never wanted to stint your mother of her comforts," Fanny
retorted, a