r
into the pleasures which early nurture and habit connect with all the
little aims and efforts of the poor who are born poor: to her mind,
Eppie, in being restored to her birthright, was entering on a too long
withheld but unquestionable good. Hence she heard Silas's last words
with relief, and thought, as Godfrey did, that their wish was achieved.

"Eppie, my dear," said Godfrey, looking at his daughter, not without
some embarrassment, under the sense that she was old enough to judge
him, "it'll always be our wish that you should show your love and
gratitude to one who's been a father to you so many years, and we shall
want to help you to make him comfortable in every way. But we hope
you'll come to love us as well; and though I haven't been what a father
should ha' been to you all these years, I wish to do the utmost in my
power for you for the rest of my life, and provide for you as my only
child. And you'll have the best of mothers in my wife--that'll be a
blessing you haven't known since you were old enough to know it."

"My dear, you'll be a treasure to me," said Nancy, in her gentle voice.
"We shall want for nothing when we have our daughter."

Eppie did not come forward and curtsy, as she had done before. She
held Silas's hand in hers, and grasped it firmly--it was a weaver's
hand, with a palm and finger-tips that were sensitive to such
pressure--while she spoke with colder decision than before.

"Thank you, ma'am--thank you, sir, for your offers--they're very great,
and far above my wish. For I should have no delight i' life any more
if I was forced to go away from my father, and knew he was sitting at
home, a-thinking of me and feeling lone. We've been used to be happy
together every day, and I can't think o' no happiness without him. And
he says he'd nobody i' the world till I was sent to him, and he'd have
nothing when I was gone. And he's took care of me and loved me from
the first, and I'll cleave to him as long as he lives, and nobody shall
ever come between him and me."

"But you must make sure, Eppie," said Silas, in a low voice--"you must
make sure as you won't ever be sorry, because you've made your choice
to stay among poor folks, and with poor clothes and things, when you
might ha' had everything o' the best."

His sensitiveness on this point had increased as he listened to Eppie's
words of faithful affection.

"I can never be sorry, father," said Eppie. "I shouldn't know what to
th