"I'll not chide thee;
Let shame come when it will, I do not call it."
--SHAKESPEARE.


"I never saw such a likeness in my life!" said Mrs. Gibson looking after
the phaeton as it drove away; "she's the very image of her mother. I could
just have believed it was the very little Elsie Dinsmore I used to teach
more than twenty years ago."

"She's lovely!" exclaimed Sally with enthusiasm. "Mother, did you see what
a pretty watch she had?"

"Yes," gloomily; "some folks seem to have nothing but prosperity, and
others nothing but poverty and losses and crosses. They're as rich as
Croesus and we have hardly enough to keep us from starving."

"Better times may come," said Sally, trying to speak hopefully, "Tom may
reform and go to work. I do think, mother, if you'd try to----"

"Hush! I'm a great deal better to him than he deserves."

It was some moments before Sally spoke again, then it was only to ask,
"Will you have your dinner now, mother?"

"No; there's nothing in the house but bread and potatoes, and I couldn't
swallow either. Dear me what a table they used to set at Roselands! enough
to tempt the appetite of an epicure."