"This will do your cold good," she said, tasting the stew out of a
spoon which she brought in her other hand, and setting it down on
the hot hearth. Then she stood looking a little fearfully at her
son, who had not moved. Ah, that is woman's way! She incites men to
a difficulty, and then appears innocently on the battle-field with
bandages for the belligerents. How many of the quarrels of this
world has she caused--and how few ever witnessed!

David was sick in heart and body and kept his chair and made no
reply. His mother suddenly turned, feeling a cold draft on her
back, and observed the broken window-pane and the flapping sheet
of paper.

"There's putty and glass in the store-room: why don't you put that
pane of glass in?"

"I will sometime," said David, absently. She went over to his bed
and beat up the bolster and made everything ready for him.

"You ought to have clean sheets and pillow-cases," she remarked
confidently; "the negroes are worthless. Good night," she said,
with her hand on the door, looking back at him timidly.

He sprang up and went over to her. "Oh, mother! mother! mother!" he
cried, and then he checked the useless words that came rushing in a
flood.

"Good night! and thank you for coming. Good night! Be careful, I'll
bring the candle, the stairway is dark. Good night!"