ve too much light on your eyes," said Frances. She lowered the
blind about an inch or two.

"Now tell me, have you been down-stairs to-day?"

"How can you ask me, my love, when I can't even crawl? Besides, I assure
you, dear, dearest one"--here Mrs. Carnegie took Frances's hand and
kissed it--"that they dislike having me. Freda and Alicia quite show
their dislike in their manner. Carrie tries to smile and look friendly,
but she is nothing better than a hypocrite. I can read through them all.
They are only civil to me; they only put up with their poor old aunt
because I am rich, and they enjoy my comfortable house. Ah! they none of
them know what nerves are--the rack, the tear, to the poor system, that
overstrained nerves can give. My darling, you understand, you pity me."

"I am always very sorry for you, Mrs. Carnegie, but I think when you are
better you ought to exert yourself a little more, and you must not
encourage morbid thoughts. Now shall I tell you what I did with that
last five-pound note you gave me?"

"Ah, yes, love, that will be interesting. It is nice to feel that even
such a useless thing as money can make some people happy. Is it really,
seriously the case, Frances, that there are any creatures so destitute
in the world as not to know where to find a five-pound note?"

"There are thousands and thousands who don't even know where to find a
shilling," replied Frances.

Mrs. Carnegie's faded blue eyes lighted up.

"How interesting!" she said. "Why, it must make existence quite keen.
Fancy being anxious about a shilling! I wish something would make life
keen for me; but my nerves are in such a state that really everything
that does not thrill me with torture, palls."

"I will tell you about the people who have to find their shillings,"
responded Frances.

She talked with animation for about a quarter of an hour, then kissed
the nervous sufferer, and went away.

Half an hour's brisk walking brought her back to Martinstown. She
reached the lawyer's house, and was fortunate in finding him within.

"Will you tell your client, Mr. Spens, that if he will hold over the
sale of the Firs until after my father's death, I will engage to let him
have five per cent. on his money? I have to-day accepted the post of
companion to Mrs. Carnegie, of Arden. For this I am to have a salary of
three hundred pounds a year."

"Bless me!" said the lawyer. "Such a sacrifice! Why! that woman can't
keep even a servant abo