little Mercy," she began. "I like to have her along o' me. I'm mostly
alone, and the child makes company."

"Yes, but you have no time for her this morning, for, as I've told
you a score of times already to-day, Mr. Preston is coming," replied
Lydia.

Now Mr. Preston was Mrs. Bell's attorney, and next to her religion,
which was most truly real and abiding in her poor old heart, she
loved her attorney.




CHAPTER VIII.

"THE UNION."


Lydia had just then plenty of cause for anxiety; for that kind of
anxiety which such a woman would feel. She was anxious about the gold
she had been so carefully saving, putting by here a pound and there a
pound, until the bank held a goodly sum sufficient to support her in
comfort in the not very distant day when her residence in Warren's
Grove would come to an end.

Whenever Mrs. Bell died, Lydia knew she must look out for a fresh
home, and that day could surely now not be very distant.

The old woman had seen her eighty-fifth birthday. Death must be near