"The way of the world," said Mrs. Markland.

"Yes, yes; ever looking for the good time coming that never comes,"
sighed Mrs. Elder. "Ah, me," she added, "I only wish Lotty was with
me again."

"How many children has she?"

"Four."

"One a baby?"

"Yes, and but three months old."

"She has her hands full."

"You may well say that, ma'am; full enough."

"Her presence, would not, I fear, add much to your comfort, Mrs.
Elder. With her own hands full, as you say, and, I doubt not, her
heart full, also, she would not have it in her power to make much
smoother the pillow on which your head is lying. Is she of a happy
temper, naturally?"

"Well, no; I can't say that she is, ma'am. She is too much like her
mother: ever looking for a brighter day in the future."

"And so unconscious of the few gleams of sunshine that play warmly
about her feet--"