re a very troublesome kind of a person," said Berlaps, looking
her rebukingly in the face. Then taking a dollar and five cents from
the drawer, he pushed them toward her on the counter, adding, as he
did so, "There, take your money. One would think you were actually
starving."

Mrs. Gaston picked up the coin eagerly, and hurried away. It was
more than an hour since she had left home. Her children were alone,
and the night had closed in some time before. The thought of this
made her quicken her pace to a run. As she passed on, the sight of
an orange in a window reminded her of her promise to Ella. She
stopped and bought a small one, and then hurried again on her way.

"Here's half a dollar of what I owe you, Mrs. Grubb," said she, as
she stepped into the shop of that personage, and threw the coin she
named upon the counter. "And now give me a loaf of bread, quickly;
some molasses in this cup, and a pint of milk in this," drawing two
little mugs from under her shawl as she spoke.

The articles she mentioned were soon ready for her. She had paid for
them, and was about stepping from the door, when she paused, and,
turning about, said:

"Oh, I had like to have forgotten! I want two cent candles. I shall
have to work late to-night."

The candles were cut from a large bunch hanging above the narrow
counter, wrapped in a very small bit of paper, and given to Mrs.
Gaston, who took them and went quickly away.

All was dark and still in the room that contained her children, as
she gained the house that sheltered them. She lit one of her candles
below, and went up-stairs. As she entered, Ella's bright eyes
glistened upon her from the bed; but little Emma had fallen asleep
with her head in the lap of Henry, who was seated upon the floor
with his back against the wall, himself likewise locked in the arms
of forgetfulness. The fire had nearly gone out, and the room was
quite cold.

"Oh, mother, why did yon stay so long?" Ella asked, looking her
earnestly in the face.

"I couldn't get back any sooner, my dear. But see! I've brought the
orange you have wished for so long. You can eat it all by yourself,
for Emma is fast asleep on the floor, and can't cry for it."

But Emma roused up, at the moment, and began to fret and cry for
something to eat.

"Don't cry, dear. You shall have your supper in a little while. I
have brought you home some nice bread and molasses," said the
mother, in tones meant to soothe and quiet her hun