awkward; but they're trifles. When the mud's up to your neck,
you needn't trouble yourself because you've lost your pattens. You want
a night's rest, my dear."

"Ay, I do; and don't you worrit, Swan, over Matthew being so _ugly_ with
you."

"Certainly not," said Swan. "He's turned more civil too. Said he to me
this morning, 'Misfortunes in this life is what we all hev to expect.
They ought not to surprise us,' said he; 'they never surprise me, nor
nothing does.' It's true too. And he's allers for making a sensible
observation, as he thinks (that shows what a fool he is). No, if he was
to meet a man with three heads, he wouldn't own as he was surprised;
he'd merely say, 'You must find this here dispensation very expensive in
hats.'"

CHAPTER XXXII.

MR. BRANDON IS MADE THE SUBJECT OF AN
HONOURABLE COMPARISON.

John Mortimer, thanks to a strong frame and an excellent constitution,
was soon able to rise. He stood by his little Janie when she was laid in
the grave, and felt, when he could think about it, how completely he and
his had been spared the natural sorrow they would have suffered by the
overshadowing gloom of greater misfortunes.

There was no mother to make lamentation. It was above all things needful
to keep up Johnnie's spirits, and not discourage him. He had gone
through a harder struggle for his life than his father knew of; but the
sight of his pinched features and bright, anxious eyes began only now to
produce their natural effect. John always came into his room with a
serene countenance, and if he could not command his voice so as to speak
steadily and cheerfully, he sat near him, and was silent.

There was little sign of mourning about the place. Never did a beautiful
little promising life slip away so unobserved. Anastasia did not even
know that her companion was gone. She was still not out of danger, and
she wanted a world of watching and comforting and amusing.

They all wanted that. John, as he passed from room to room, strangely
grateful for the care and kindness that had come into his house almost
unbidden, was sometimes relieved himself in listening to the talk that
went on.

Only two of his children were quite unhurt; these were Barbara (and she
found quite enough occupation in waiting on her twin sister) and little
Hugh, who sometimes wandered about after his father almost as
disconsolate as himself, and sometimes helped to amuse Bertram, showing
him pictures, while Miss Christi