clothes, and such great relations, you say, in England."

"True, true, gentle blood is a fine heritage; but your mother had great
store of gold, and, when your papa dies, all this will belong to you (it
is time you should know this, Miriam), and you will have us all to take
care of and support; so you must be very good, indeed."

"I am so sorry," I said, with a deep sigh and a feeling that a heavy
burden had been thrown suddenly on my shoulders; "but I tell you what I
will do" (brightening up), "I will give it every bit to mamma, and she
will support us all. She will live much longer than papa, because she is
so much younger--twenty years, I believe. Isn't that a great
difference?"

"Your father will outlive me, child, I trust, should such a state of
things ever come to pass; but I am old, and shall not cumber the earth
long," and a groan burst from her lips.

"How old _are_ you, Mrs. Austin?" I asked, with a feeling of awe
creeping over me, as though I had been talking to the widow of
Methuselah, and I looked up into her face, pityingly.

"Fifty-five years old, child, come next Michaelmas, and a miserable
sinner still, in the eyes of my Lord! I was a widow when I went to hire
with Mrs. Erle, Evelyn's lady mother--that was soon after she married
the captain, who had only his sword--and I have lived with her and hers
ever since, and served them faithfully, I trust, and I hope I do not
deserve to be cast on strangers and upstarts in my old age, even if one
of them happens to marry your father. Constance Glen, forsooth!" and she
drew up her stiff figure.