from a few of those with whom he was most intimate,
and a kindly nod from others, no allusion was made to his fortnight's
absence or its cause.

For the next month he worked hard and made up the time he had lost,
running straight home when he came out from school, and returning just
in time to go in with the others; but gradually he fell into his former
ways, and by the time the school broke up at Christmas was able to mix
with the boys and take part in their games. At home he did his best to
make things bright, but it was uphill work. Mrs. Sankey was fretful and
complaining. Their income was reduced by the loss of Captain Sankey's
half pay, and they had now only the interest of the fortune of four
thousand pounds which Mrs. Sankey had brought to her husband on her
marriage. This sum had been settled upon her, and was entirely under her
own control. The income was but a small one, but it was sufficient for
the family to live upon with care and prudence.

Captain Sankey had made many friends since the time when he first
settled at Marsden, and all vied with each other in their kindness to
his widow. Presents of game were constantly left for her; baskets of
chickens, eggs, and fresh vegetables were sent down by Squire Simmonds
and other county magnates, and their carriages often stopped at the door
to make inquiries. Many people who had not hitherto called now did so,
and all Marsden seemed anxious to testify its sympathy with the widow of
the brave officer.

Ned was touched with these evidences of respect for his father's memory.
Mrs. Sankey was pleased for herself, and she would of an evening inform
Ned with much gratification of the visits she had received.

Ned was glad that anything should occur which could rouse his mother,
and divert her from her own grievances; but the tone in which she spoke
often jarred painfully upon him, and he wondered how his mother could
find it in her heart to receive these people and to talk over his
father's death.

But Mrs. Sankey liked it. She was conscious she looked well in her
deep mourning, and that even the somber cap was not unbecoming with her
golden hair peeping out beneath it. Tears were always at her command,
and she had ever a few ready to drop upon her dainty embroidered
handkerchief when the occasion commanded it; and her visitors, when they
agreed among themselves, what a soft gentle woman that poor Mrs.
Sankey was, but sadly delicate you know--had no idea of the qu