Rena's arms were round her mother's neck, and
Rena's voice was sounding in her ears. "There,
there, mamma! Never mind! I won't leave you,
mamma--dear old mamma! Your Rena'll stay
with you always, and never, never leave you."

John smoothed his mother's hair with a
comforting touch, patted her withered cheek soothingly,
lifted her tenderly to her place by his side,
and put his arm about her.

"You love your children, mother?"

"They're all I've got," she sobbed, "an' they
cos' me all I had. When the las' one's gone, I'll
want to go too, for I'll be all alone in the world.
Don't take Rena, John; for if you do, I'll never
see her again, an' I can't bear to think of it. How
would you like to lose yo'r one child?"

"Well, well, mother, we'll say no more about
it. And now tell me all about yourself, and about
the neighbors, and how you got through the war,
and who's dead and who's married--and everything."

The change of subject restored in some degree
Mis' Molly's equanimity, and with returning
calmness came a sense of other responsibilities.

"Good gracious, Rena!" she exclaimed.