own notice, but had tried cheerfully always to accept what they had with
a thankful heart. But Love dwelt with them always, and she can make
divine her humblest fare.

Mr. Abel Graham fumbled in the inner pocket of his very shabby coat, and
at last brought out a square envelope, from which he took the curate's
letter.

'I have come,' he said quite slowly, 'in answer to this. I suppose you
knew it had been written?'

'If it is Mr. Courtney's letter, yes,' answered Gladys, unconsciously
adopting her uncle's business-like tone and manner. 'Of course he told
me he had written.'

'And you expected me to come, of course?'

'I don't think I thought about it much,' Gladys answered, with
frankness. 'It is very good of you to come so soon.'

'I came because it was my duty. Not many people do their duty in this
world, but though I'm a very poor man, I won't shirk it--no, I won't
shirk it.' He rubbed his hands together slowly, and nodded across the
hearth to his niece. Instead of being pleased, as she ought to have
been, with this announcement, she gave a quick little shiver. 'My
brother John--your father, I mean--and I have not met for a good number
of years, not since we had the misfortune to disagree about a trifle,'
continued the old man, keeping his eyes fixed on the girl's face till
she found herself made nervous by them. 'Time has proved that I was
right, quite right; but my brother John was always, if you will excuse