ight of a dull little paraffin lamp, Mrs.
Skinner sat.

"Mother!"

Mrs. Skinner looked up over her spectacles.

"Mother, I am so sorry. Please forgive me, and let me comfort your old
age, mother! My little Joy sent me. She does so want to see you, and
to know you will forgive me."

"Forgive you! What do you care for my forgiveness? You chose your own
way, and made your own bed, and it isn't my fault you found it hard."

"Come to Joy, mother. Hear her dear little voice asking you to--to be
kind. Will you come?"

"I'll see about it."

"But come now; it is not very dark; there's a moon rising. Oh, mother,
come!"

There was a pause, and then Mrs. Skinner said--

"Get me my cloak and bonnet, Bet. I suppose for peace sake I shall
have to go."

But Mrs. Skinner's voice trembled, and Bet saw her hand shake so that
she could hardly fasten her cloak. She followed her daughter silently
out of the house, only saying to Bet, "Be sure to lock the door."

Bet was left alone, and had again nothing to do but to count the
clock's chimes as it struck the quarters. At last, lulled by the sound
of the in-coming tide and the low moan of the wind, she fell asleep in
her grandmother's chair.

She was awakened by the sound of a laugh--a discordant laugh. It came
from her Uncle Joe's old room. Presently there was the chink of money,
and Bet, creeping softly to the end of the passage, listened
attentively.

"Come, that's a good card," said the speaker; "you are in luck's way."

"Oh! I know what I'm about now; we'll have shilling stakes to-night."

"Won't your pretty bride wonder where you are?"

"She'll be taught _not_ to wonder, that's all."

"Has that young hopeful ever turned up?" was the next question, as the
cards were shuffled.

"No, and it will be the worse for him when he does."

Silence reigned after this, and it was evident that Joe Skinner thought
his mother and Bet were safe in bed.

Bet crept upstairs. At last she heard the clock strike eleven, and
then the three men below departed, noiselessly as they came, by the
back door, of which Joe Skinner had the key.

Bet pinched herself to keep awake till she heard her grandmother's step
at the front of the house. Running down, she opened the front door
before there was time to ring.

Mrs. Skinner came in as she had gone out, silent and self-restrained.

"Go back to bed, child," she said; "you'll catch your death of cold."

"But you are so col