ither be
prepared to leave, or find money to pay for the rent."

"It is well," she replied. "I will do as you say."

"Then you may expect me here this evening at dusk," he said, and
turning towards the door left the room muttering; "when will I ever
get rid of this crowd of paupers, who, it is always my luck to rent
rooms to."

"God of Heaven aid me!" exclaimed Mrs. Wentworth, as she closed the
door in the receding form of Mr. Elder, and sank on her knees before
the bed on which Ella lay in a high fever.

CHAPTER SEVENTEENTH.

THE EJECTMENT

Mrs. Wentworth knew not where to go to procure money to pay the rent,
and when she asked Mr. Elder to give her time to procure either the
means of paying him, or to procure another place to stay, she did so
only to avert the threatened ejectment for a brief period. Nor did she
know where to procure another shelter. There was no one in the town
that she knew from whom she could have obtained a room to rent, unless
the money was paid in advance.

After Mr. Elder's departure, she fell on her knees and prayed for
help, but she did so only from habit, not with the belief that an
Omnipotent arm would be stretched out to aid her. There she knelt and
prayed, until the thought of her sick child flashed across her brain,
and rising, she stooped over and enquired how she felt.

"The same way," answered Ella. "I feel very hot, and my throat is
quite parched."

"You have got the fever, darling," said Mrs. Wentworth.--"Is there
anything I can do for you?"

"Nothing," replied Ella, "except," she continued, "you could get me
something sweet to take this bitter taste from my mouth."

A pang shot through Mrs. Wentworth's heart as she replied, "I cannot
get anything just now. You must wait until a little later in the day."

She spoke sadly, for it was a deception that she was practicing upon
her child, when she promised to gratify her wishes at a later hour.

"Never mind," observed Ella. "Do not trouble yourself, my dear mother,
I do not want it very badly."

The little girl defined the cause of her mother's not acceding to her
request at that moment, and she had no desire to cause her additional
pain, by again asking for anything to moisten her parched lips, or
remove the dry and bitter taste that the fever had caused.

Mrs. Wentworth had at last found out that Ella was sick.--Not from any
complaint of the child, for the little girl remained suffering in
silence, and never