though still in the sky, the clouds were broken, and gleams of
sunshine came breaking through. Ah! if they had only possessed
sufficient power to disperse the shadows that all day long had been
gathering around the heart of Mr. Abercrombie! But that was
impossible. Self-respect had been forfeited; and a consciousness of
having, in his impatient haste, acted unjustly, haunted his
thoughts. And so, the shadows that were not to be dispersed by the
feeble sun-rays from the countenance of his wife, gradually diffused
themselves, until the light that struggled with them grew pale.

"Did you know," said Mrs. Abercrombie, breaking in upon the
oppressive silence that succeeded, after all had retired for the
night but herself and husband, "that the mother of Edward Wilson is
very poor and in a decline?"

"I was not aware of it," was the brief response.

"It is so. Mrs. Archer was here this afternoon, and was telling me
about them. Mrs. Wilson, who, until within a few weeks past, has
been able to earn something, is now so weak that she cannot leave
her bed, and is solely dependent on the earnings of her son. How
much do you pay him?"

"Only three dollars a week," answered Mr. Abercrombie, shading his
face with his hand.

"Only three dollars! How can they live on that? Mrs. Archer says
that Edward is one of the best of lads--that he nurses his mother,
and cares for her with unfailing tenderness; indeed, he is her only
attendant. They are too poor to pay for the services of a domestic.