largely, to deny it. Trotty held his peace.

"And how hard, father, to grow old and die, and think we might have
cheered and helped each other! How hard in all our lives to love each
other; and to grieve, apart, to see each other working, changing,
growing old and gray. Even if I got the better of it, and forgot him
(which I never could), oh, father dear, how hard to have a heart so full
as mine is now, and live to have it slowly drained out every drop,
without the recollection of one happy moment of a woman's life, to stay
behind and comfort me, and make me better!"

Trotty sat quite still, Meg dried her eyes, and said more gayly: that is
to say, with here a laugh, and there a sob, and here a laugh and sob
together:

"So Richard says, father; as his work was yesterday made certain for
some time to come, and as I love him and have loved him fully three
years--ah! longer than that, if he knew it!--will I marry him on New
Year's Day; the best and happiest day, he says, in the whole year, and
one that is almost sure to bring good fortune with it. It's a short
notice, father--isn't it?--but I haven't my fortune to be settled, or my
wedding dresses to be made, like the great ladies, father, have I? And
he said so much, and said it in his way; so strong and earnest, and all
the time so kind and gentle; that I said I'd come and talk to you,
father. And as they paid the money for that work of mine this morning
(unexpectedly, I am sure!), and as you have fared very poorly for a
whole week, and as I couldn't help wishing there should be something to
make this day a sort of holiday to you as well as a dear and happy day
to me, father, I made a little treat and brought it to surprise you."

"And see how he leaves it cooling on the step!" said another voice.

It was the voice of the same Richard, who had come upon them unobserved,
and stood before the father and daughter; looking down upon them with a
face as glowing as the iron on which his stout sledge-hammer daily rung.
A handsome, well-made, powerful youngster he was; with eyes that
sparkled like the red-hot droppings from a furnace fire; black hair that
curled about his swarthy temples rarely; and a smile--a smile that bore
out Meg's eulogium on his style of conversation.

"See how he leaves it cooling on the step!" said Richard. "Meg don't
know what he likes. Not she!"

Trotty, all action and enthusiasm, immediately reached up his hand to
Richard, and was going to add