h proceeded from upstairs. Very early in the
evening Aunt Jemima had unceremoniously packed Marian off to bed, and the
tiny child was taking a long time to cry herself to sleep in the cold,
dark room.

"Never mind the child," said Aunt Jemima sharply, as she observed her
brother's restless glances towards the staircase door; "on no account must
she be allowed to have her own way. It was high time she went to bed; and
she'll soon be fast asleep."

"Yes, Jemima," said the troubled father; "but I wish you had been more
gentle with the child."

"Fiddlesticks!" was the contemptuous exclamation of Aunt Jemima, as she
regarded her brother severely through her spectacles; and she added,
"Since you have wished me to take the oversight of your house and child,
you must leave me to manage them as I think fit."

"Cobbler" Horn did not venture to remind his sister that he had not
expressed any such wish. Being so much his senior, and having at least
as strong a will as his own, Jemima Horn had always maintained a certain
predominance over her brother, and her ascendancy still prevailed to some
extent. Making no further reference to the child, he sat listening by
turns to a prolonged exposition of his sister's views on the management of
children, and to the continued wailings which floated down from the room
above, until, at length, as a more piteous cry than all frantically voiced
his own name, "faver," his self-restraint gave way, and he rose hastily
and went upstairs.

Aunt Jemima watched him in grim silence to the foot of the stairs.

"Mind," she then called after him, "she is not to come down."

"Cobbler" Horn did not so far set his sister at defiance as to act in flat
contradiction to her decree. Perhaps he himself did not think it well that
the child should be brought downstairs again, after once having been put
to bed. But, if Marian might not come down, Marian's father might stay up.
As soon as his step sounded on the stairs the child's wailing ceased.

"Zat zoo, daddy?" and the father felt, in the darkness, that two tiny arms
were stretched out towards him in piteous welcome. Lighting the candle,
which stood on the table by the window, he sat down on the edge of the
bed, and, in a moment, Marian's little brown arms were tightly clasped
about his neck. For a brief space he held the child to his breast; and
then he gently laid her back upon the pillow, and having tucked the
bed-clothes well about her, he kissed the li