think His word and promise are worthy
of belief. Turn it over in your mind; view it in every way, and let me
hear the result. I see your grandchild coming with a bundle of
faggots; here is a little change to buy something--tea, or whatever you
want."

"Good by, missis. Lord bless you and reward you." But May was out of
the cot, going at full speed towards home, which was not very far
distant.

Mr. Stillinghast had purchased the house some thirty years before, when
it stood three quarters of a mile from the city. It was then a villa,
and had been built by a French refugee, who, in those days of courtly
customs, was famed for his elegant hospitality. One of the old
noblesse, and but little acquainted with the practical management of
business affairs, he became embarrassed, and was finally compelled to
dispose of his elegant house and furniture, and retire to a life of
obscurity and poverty. But the city was growing around it rapidly; in
a few more years it would be hemmed in and walled around by streets and
houses. Mr. Stillinghast fretted and chafed; then calculated its
increased value, and grew almost savage at the idea that he would be
dead and forgotten when heaps of gold would be paid down for the few
feet of earth it covered.

When May went in, glowing with exercise and happiness, she found Helen
moping over the grate, in which the fire was nearly extinguished.

"Why, Helen, it is very cold here, is it not?"

"I am nearly frozen."

"Why on earth did you not step into the next room and get coal? There
is a hod full on the hearth."

"I am not in the habit of fetching coal and building fires," she said,
haughtily.

"And supposing that I was, I presume you waited for me," said May, with
a feeling of exasperation she could not control. Then laying off her
bonnet and wrappings, she went out and brought in the hod, emptied it
into the grate, let down the ashes, and put up the blower; and by the
time she finished, the recollection of the fire which she had kindled
that morning in old Mabel's cottage came like a sweet memory into her
heart, and the bitterness passed away.

"When do we dine? I suppose the ogre of the castle will be in soon!"
said Helen.

"My uncle generally dines down town; and I beg, Helen, that you will
speak more respectfully of him," said May.

"And shall we get nothing until _he_ comes?" screamed Helen.

"Yes," said May, laughing at her cousin's consternation. "We can dine
n