as obliged to confess that
he had known the truth months before, and never told the boy, lest he
should be unfitted for the work they gave him. Of Ben Brown the elder's
death there was little to tell, except that he was killed in some wild
place at the West, and a stranger wrote the fact to the only person
whose name was found in Ben's pocket-book. Mr. Smithers offered to take
the boy back and "do well by him," averring that the father wished his
son to remain where he left him, and follow the profession to which he
was trained.

"Will you go, Ben?" asked Miss Celia, hoping to distract his mind from
his grief by speaking of other things.

"No, no; I'd rather tramp and starve. He's awful hard to me and Sanch;
and he'd be worse, now father's gone. Don't send me back! Let me stay
here; folks are good to me; there's nowhere else to go." And the head
Ben had lifted up with a desperate sort of look, went down again on
Sancho's breast as if there were no other refuge left.

"You shall stay here, and no one shall take you away against your will.
I called you 'my boy' in play, now you shall be my boy in earnest; this
shall be your home, and Thorny your brother. We are orphans, too; and we
will stand by one another till a stronger friend comes to help us," said
Miss Celia, with such a mixture of resolution and tenderness in her
voice, that Ben felt comforted at once, and thanked her by laying his
cheek against the pretty slipper that rested on the step beside him, as
if he had no words in which to swear loyalty to the gentle mistress whom
be meant henceforth to serve with grateful fidelity.

Sancho felt that he must follow suit; and gravely put his paw upon her
knee, with a low whine, as if he said, "Count me in, and let me help to
pay my master's debt if I can."

Miss Celia shook the offered paw cordially, and the good creature
crouched at her feet like a small lion, bound to guard her and her house
for evermore.

"Don't lie on that cold stone, Ben; come here and let me try to comfort
you," she said, stooping to wipe away the great drops that kept rolling
down the brown cheek half hidden in her dress. But Ben put his arm over
his face, and sobbed out with a fresh burst of grief,--

"You can't, you didn't know him! Oh, daddy! daddy! if I'd only seen you
jest once more!"

No one could grant that wish; but Miss Celia did comfort him, for
presently the sound of music floated out from the parlor,--music so
soft, so sweet,