Year: 1865

luck would have it, be had that very


morning (Christmas morning) been sent
for to see casual applicant for relief at
the Union-a woman who had Just lost q
child. Temporarily she might do wei
enough, and Doctor Banks wanted to get
home to dinner; so away went the house
keeper in cab, with n letter from the
doctor, and in two hours came back bring
ing with her pale, pretty yorng woman
whose name was Jane Harris, and who.
her husband having gone abroad and left
her with a child which she had just lost,
was reduced to apply at the workhousc
She was timid, and had at first such ii
scared look, that Mr.. bryce had much
trouble to induce her to stay; but it was
quite wonderful the way in which the
child took to her, and so a room was got
ready for them both and she was comforts
ably settled, almost, as the housekeeper
SAID, "as if she was lady though for the
matter OF that DR.. Banks knew more about
her than he said, and things looked very


l
next day, after he had had little con-
veasatlon with the new nurse. that she
Was thoroughly trustworthy, and that he
himself had known her father, who once
held very respectable position in the
city, but vas new dead. So Mrs. Harris
became an inmate of the dim old house,
and her charge throve under her care


He was bonny boy, and every day his
little baby ways become of so great inter>
est to the lone'y old man, that he was
never happy after business hours until he
had the little fellow in his room. He
never stayed at his old tavern more than
half au hour beyond the time it took him
to eat his dinner, and even went so far as
to tell two or three Of his friends what he
had done, and invite them home to see the
child, in whom they-being themselves
fathers of families-couid sec nothing ex-
at old Dryces strange infatuation


When the boy at last grew able to crawl
about and even walk from chair to chair.
he seemed to have co grown to the old
mans heart that bryce became subject to
a KIND of transformation His laugh
grew moro mellow, though tho violin
had been laid near the fire and plaved
upon gently; dozen old and forgotten
picturc-books were disinterred from some
box, and toys strewed the floor of the
dingy sitting-rOom. At about this time
Mrs Harris was for week or more
strangely agitated by a letter which was
brought to her one morning, and came as
she said from her husband who had been
for some time in Australia.


Upon her recovery, Mr. bryce inquired
a little into her husband. circumstances.
and hearing that he was endeavoring to
establish an agency in Sydney, wrote
letter requesting him to make some in
quiries about house to which bryce &
Co, had made large consignments, but
whose promised remittance had not duly
arrived. He soon had enough to occupy
him, however. for Christmas was coming
round again and with something like
resumption Of the old vigor in his business
habits he had called for the books, for he
had had serious losses lately, and began
to think it necessary to give some personal
attention to the current accounts Still
room to play about his knees, and indeed
refused to part with him even when nurse
Harris came to put him to bed, often max
ing her stay and take some wine or con
sulting her rs to some future provisions
for her little charge, for whom she seemed
to have even more affection than the old
gentleman himself


1t was on another Christmas eve that
he sat talking to her in this way, but still
with a rather absent manner, for his
heavy ledeers and cash books lay beside
him on the table She would have taken
the child away, but Mr. Drvce told her to
let him remain and at the same time ask
ed her to step down into the counting
house, and if Mr.. Jaggers had not left for
the night to ask him to come up.


Now Mr. Jaggcrs had so seldom been
invited to come up stairs, that, although
he of course knew Of the adoption of the
little founding, he had never seen TIE
nurse; but that was scarcely any reason
for her stopping on her way down stairs
and pressing her hand to her side with n
sudden spasm of fear.


She got down, at last, however, and
opening the two doors which led to the
passage, at the end of which was the pri-
yate counting house, stood there in the
shadow and looked in.


Mr. Jaggers was busy at his desk, tear
ing I'D papers, some Of which already
bIazed upon the hearth. The-desk itself
was open, and by the light of the shaded
lamp she could see that it contained a


heavily bound box, in which hung a


bunch of keys, As she delivered Mr.


Dryce's message, still in the shadow OF


the door, he looked up with scared face,


and. dropping the lid of the desk with a