"No; she is paying a visit of a few days, as she often does since her
daughter-in-law, Aunt Zoe, has undertaken the most of the housekeeping
at Ion."

"She certainly looks very young to be mother and grandmother to so
many," sighed the invalid, catching sight of her own sallow, prematurely
wrinkled face reflected in a large mirror on the opposite side of the
room. "But she has had an easy life, surrounded by kind, affectionate,
sympathising friends, while I--miserable woman that I am--have been
worried, brow-beaten, robbed, till nothing is left me but ill-health and
grinding poverty."

"Mother, mother dear, don't talk so while I am left you and have enough
to keep us both, with care and economy," entreated Evelyn in a voice
half choked with sobs. "It will be joy to me to share with you and do
all I can to make your last days comfortable and happy."

"Then you haven't lost all your love for your mother in our years of
separation?"

"No, no indeed!" answered Evelyn earnestly. But there the conversation
ended for the time, Mrs. Leland returning with the promised refreshment.
It seemed to give some strength to the invalid, and after taking it she
was, by her own request, assisted to her room, an apartment opening into
that of her daughter, with whose good help she was soon made ready for
her bed, the most comfortable she had lain upon for weeks or months, she
remarked, as she stretched her tired limbs upon it.

"I am very glad you find it so, mother dear," said Evelyn. "And now, if
you like, I will unpack your trunks and arrange their contents in