and her own family have been ill all winter; so that her expenses
have been great."

"I am sorry to hear this," replied Mrs. Clarke. "I had hoped that
her school was succeeding. Give my love to her, uncle, and tell her
I will call upon her in a day or two."

Uncle Joshua promised to remember the message, and bidding Mr. and
Mrs. Clarke good evening, he was soon seated in Mrs. Morrison's neat
little parlour, which, though it bore no comparison with the
spacious and beautifully furnished apartments he had just left, had
an air of comfort and convenience which could not fail to please.

Delighted to see her old friend, whom she also, from early habit,
addressed by the title of Uncle Joshua, although he was no relation,
Mrs. Morrison's countenance, for awhile beamed with that cheerful,
animated expression which it used to wear in her more youthful days;
but an expression of care and anxiety soon over shadowed it, and, in
the midst of her kind attentions to her visiter, and her
affectionate endearment to two sweet children, who were playing
around the room, she would often remain thoughtful and abstracted
for several minutes.

Uncle Joshua was an attentive observer, and he saw that something
weighed heavily upon her mind. When tea was over, and the little
ones had gone to rest, he said, kindly,

"Come, Fanny, draw your chair close to my side, and tell me all your
troubles, as freely as you used to do when a merry-hearted
school-girl. How often have listened to the sad tale of the pet