for you, I think I shall let her have the
money; but I won't say so yet. I must talk about it to Peter Anderson,
and if he don't say no, she shall have it with pleasure."

"That will be very kind of you, Tom; and I hope mother will feel it, for
you don't owe her much."

"Never mind that; after breakfast I'll see Peter Anderson. Don't say a
word about it till I come back."

At breakfast-time my mother still appeared to be very thoughtful. The
fact was, that the idea of what advantage the money would be had taken
possession of her mind; and perhaps she thought that there was no chance
of obtaining it. Perhaps she felt that, had she treated me better, she
would have had it without difficulty--it was impossible to say exactly.

After breakfast I walked with Virginia to her school, and then set off
to Anderson, to whom I immediately imparted what had taken place. His
answer was decided:

"I think, Jack, you can't do better; but, at the same time, let us go to
your father and hear his opinion."

My father coincided with Anderson and me; and he added, "I tell you
what, your mother is not parfect exactly--though I say it, as shouldn't
say it--but still she does work hard, and she will work hard; she has
paid my little girl's schooling out of her own arnings, and, moreover,
she has found me one pot of porter at least every night, which has made
me very comfortable. Now, I've still a matter of forty pounds in the
lieutenant's hands. I'll add it to Tom's hundred pounds, and then she
will have a fair start. What d'ye think, Peter?"

"I think you are both right; and, Tom, you are doing your duty."

I knew what Anderson meant. I thanked him for his advice, and my father
and I went to my mother's house. I requested my father to stand
spokesman, which he did, ending by telling my mother that my hundred
pounds and his forty pounds were very much at her sarvice, and good luck
to her. Virginia's eyes glistened as she took me by the hand. My mother
replied, "Very well, if we pleased, she would do her best for us all."

The answer was hardly gracious, but I watched her countenance and saw
she was moved. Her thin lips quivered as she turned away and went
upstairs, which she did immediately after her reply. In about
half-an-hour, during which I was laughing with Virginia, my mother came
downstairs in her shawl and bonnet.

"Tom," said she, in a kind manner, "will you walk with Virginia to
school this afternoon, as I am going to ha