thought to have been worthless as yellow
autumn leaves, which would install them as the possessors of such and
such domain,--raps which usually brought nothing but a shoe-bill, or a
demand for the price of the previous winter's coal. All these idle
day-dreams Helen wisely kept to herself and Tommy; for there was not
another member of the family whom they would not have aggravated out of
endurance.

It was one day drawing on towards twilight in the latter part of
November,--an afternoon of the mild, sweet weather that always comes at
that season, and always seems an accident. Frederick had driven his
mother out for her airing, and whether they had been beguiled by the
soft air into going too far, or had met with some accident or delay,
they had not yet returned. Margaret would have worried, had she herself
yet come in from her classes; as for Helen, who would have looked with a
sanguine eye at her own shroud, she was sure no harm could happen while
Frederick had the reins. So she busied herself in giving things as
cheerful an aspect as possible when everybody should have reached home.

But, in the first place, there were no coals. Helen had caught a pain in
her side picking up the very last with her fingers. Nevertheless, she
had put a bright face upon it, and, after threatening to set fire to the
house and run away by the light of it, had decided that it would be
better still to set fire to it and remain and be warmed by it, while
Margaret declared they would never know what luck was again till they
had made soap from the ashes. All that, however, had put nothing into
the coal-bin.

Yesterday, Helen had received five dollars for transferring a piece of
embroidery for a wealthy acquaintance. She had hesitated about accepting
it; it would be the first Fotherington that ever took wages,--Margaret's
pay was salary; but conscience put down pride, and she gave thanks, and
shut her purse,--and perhaps it broke the spell. In such a household one
would have thought there would of course be no question what to do with
it. On the contrary, it was a grave question. Should Tommy have a hat
and Sarah a hood? should the mother have a shawl? should it buy a
quarter of a ton of coal? And there was the lyceum! Now, in the town
where they lived, not to attend the lyceum was not to be in society;
last winter they had managed to effect one season-ticket, and the girls
had gone alternately, in a neighbor's company; this winter Frederick wa