ould; but we'll all do our
best to make you happy and at home, and you shall be just like our own
girl if you'll come. What do you say, my dear? Will you?"

"How kind--how kind you are!" replied Eyebright, in a dazed, wondering
way. "I can't think what makes you so good to me, dear Mr. Joyce. But
do you think I ought to come? I'm afraid I should be troublesome.
Wealthy used to say 'that other folks's children always were
troublesome,' and that it was mean to 'settle down' on people."

"Never mind Wealthy or her maxims," said Mr. Joyce, with a smile.
"We'll risk your being troublesome, Eyebright. Will you come?"

"Do you think papa would have wished to have me?" asked Eyebright,
wistfully. "There's nobody for me to ask now except you, you know.
Papa always hated 'being under obligations' to people. If I stay with
Mrs. Downs," she added, timidly, "I can work and help her, and then I
shan't be a burden. I'm afraid there isn't any thing I can do to help
if I go with you."

"Oh, Mrs. Downs has told you of her plan, has she," said Mr. Joyce,
half vexed. "Now, listen, my child. I do really and seriously think
that your father, were he here, would prefer that you should go with
me. If you stay with Mrs. Downs, you must give up your education
entirely. She is a kind woman and really fond of you, I think; but
with her you can have no advantages of any sort, and no chance to fit
yourself for any higher sort of work than house-work. With me you will
have the opportunity of going to an excellent school, and, if you do
your best, by the time you are twenty-one you will be able to teach,
and support yourself in that way, if it becomes necessary. And, my
dear, you are mistaken in thinking that there is nothing you can do to
help us. We have never had a daughter, but we always have wished for
one. My wife and I are getting on in life, and there are lots of ways
in which a young girl will cheer and brighten us up, and help to make
the house pleasant for Charley. It is dull for a boy with no sisters,
and only an old father and mother. So, you see, we really are in need
of a girl, and you are just the girl we need. So, will you come?"

"Oh, I'll come gladly!" cried Eyebright, yielding to the pleasantness
of the thought. "I'd rather live with you than anybody else in the
world, Mr. Joyce, if only you are sure it is right."

It was settled from that moment, though Eyebright still felt a little
qualm of shyness and fear at the thought o