d had not much colour; but he need not have called her a sickly
ill-tempered wench when he threw her over and married Nancy. It was
a cruel way to serve a woman that loved him as Phoebe did.'

'She has certainly had her share of trouble. How long ago did this happen
to your sister?'

'It must be five years since Robert and Nancy were married. Phoebe was
never the same woman since then, though her health did not fail for a
year or more afterwards; Mr. Hamilton always says she has had a good
riddance of Robert. He never thought much of him, and he has told me that
it is far better that Phoebe never had a chance of marrying him, for she
would have been a sad burden to any man; and she would not have had you
to nurse her.' And Miss Locke's careworn face brightened. 'That is just
what I tell myself, when I am out of heart about her; the Lord knew
Robert would have been a cruel husband to her,--for he is not too kind
to Nancy,--and so He kept Phoebe away from him. Phoebe is not one to bear
unkindness,--it just maddens her,--and we have all spoilt her.'

'Just so, and she knows her power over you. I am afraid she gives you a
great deal to bear, Miss Locke.'

'I never mind it from her,' she answered simply. 'She is all I have in
the world except Kitty, and I am thinking what I can do for her from
morning to night; that is the best and the worst of my work, one need
never stop thinking for it. Sometimes, when I am tired, or things have
gone wrong with my customers, or I am a bit behindhand with the rent,
I wish I could talk it over with her; it would ease me somehow; but I
never do give way to the feeling, for it would only fret and worry her.'

'You are wrong,' I returned warmly. 'Mr. Hamilton would tell you so if
you asked him. Any worry, any outside trouble, would be better for Phoebe
than this unhealthy feeding on herself. Take my advice, Miss Locke, talk
about yourself and your own troubles. Phoebe is fond of you, it will
rouse her to enter more into your life.'

Miss Locke shook her head, and the tears came into her mild hazel eyes.

'There is One who knows it all. I'll not be troubling my poor Phoebe,'
she said, and her hands trembled a little. Kitty came in at this moment
and said her aunt Phoebe wanted her, so we were obliged to break off the
conversation.

I thought about it all rather sadly as I sat by my solitary fire that
evening with Tinker's head on my lap. He had taken to me, and I always
found him waitin