Year: 1876

taken before the old people, and then
goodbye.


But / saw him pass soon after day
break and he saw me and waved his hand,
for had sat by the window all night,
lest might let him go by and / asleep.


And then time glided on sadly, but
pleasantly as well. Mine was busy
life, for soon my father took to his bed,
ill-a bed he never left again, for he
gradually sank and died, leaving my
poor mother in very Indifferent circum-
stances.


1t was hard blow for us both, for he
had been one of the kindest and truest
of men, but while poor mother pined and
waited, had my hopeful days in view,
and from time to time letters from dear
Jack, all so true and honest and full of
trust i'll the future that 4 felt as if L
could not repine even when greater
troubles fell upon me.


For at the end of two years was
standing by the bedside where lay poor
mother, sinking fast. She had no par
ticular ailment, but had literally pined
and wasted away. The bird had lost its
mate of many years. and when at last
she kissed me and said "good-by," it
seemed to me to be in quiet, rest-seek-
ing spirit, and she spoke like one looking
hopefully forward to the meeting with
him who had gone before.


But she could think of me even then,
and almost the last whispered words
were


"Only eleven months, Grace, and then
he will be back to fetch you.


Poor mother she would not have
passed so peacefully away if she had
known that which l withheld namely,
the news that came to me from our law
yer. For, through thefailure of the
enterprise in which my fathers saw
ings had been invested, and which
brought us little income of
EGO year, 1 was left penni-
less-so poor in fact, that the furniture
of the cottage in the little town, to
which we had moved when we left the
farm, had to be sold to defray the fu-
neral expenses.


It was very hard to bear, and for a
month was terribly depressed but
there was that great hopeful time, ever
drawing near-the end of the three
years, when Jack would come to fetch
me to be his wife.


| Il
remember feeling particular about my
personal appearance, ano l studied my
glass to see if Jack would find me look
ing careworn and thin, and my glass
told me truly-yes.


But had to be up and doing, and be.
fore another month was over, through
the kindness of people whom we had
known, was placed where could work
contentedly for the bread must earn
till Jack should come to fetch me away.


1t was at a large West End dress
maker and it was hard work to get used
to the hurry and excitement of the place,
where there were twelve girls living in
the house, and as many more came every
day.


There were all kinds of petty pieces
of tyranny to submit to at first, and 1
suppose some of the foolish girls were
jealous of me and my looks, so much so
that found they nicknamed me "The
Beauty Poor girls If they had
only known how little store I set by my
looks they would have behaved at first
as they did later on.


The first thing that won them to me was
when Mary Sanders was taken i'll with a
terrible fever. Nine. Granger was for
sending her away ut once, on account of
her business and the infection, but the
doctor who was called in, q young, i'm.
petuous, but very clever man, told her
that it would be at her peril if she did
so, for Mary Sanders life was in danger.
So the poor girl was shut up in her bed
room without soul to go near her ex-
cept hired nurse, and after the first
night this woman staid away.


No one dared go near the poor girl
then, 80 I timidly asked leave to nurse
her, for 1 felt no fear of the infection,
and it seemed so hard for her to be left
there alone.


obtained leave, and went upstairs,
staying with her till she recovered; and
from that day there was always kind
look for me and kiss from every girl in
the place.


What was more, oddly enough, per.
haps because was so quiet and re.
strained, first one girl and then another
came to make me the confdant of hel
love secrets and ask my advice.
1 gave it, such as it was, though heart
sore myself, for Jacks letters to me had
suddenly ceased. We had corresponded
, so regularly; but it had struck me that
his last two letters had been formal and
constrained; they were full of business
.. matters too, and he had limited at its
being possible that he should not be
able to keep time about the three years,
, in consequence of some contract.
did not think this when / first read
these letters, for then had kissed and
, cried over them, but when no reply came
( to my last, re-read them, and the cold
, ness seemed apparent.


I But l waited and waited, and ther
s news came from the country. jacks
' father, widower, had died suddenly
{ and 1 said to myself, with throbbine
] heart, as longed to be at his side to try
and comfort him in his affliction, Poo
( Jack, he will come home now."


But he did not come, neither did
o get any reply to my last two letters
O Another month and the three years


would be up; and, as 1 sat over som,
r work one spring morning by the opel


window, with bunch of violets that on,
d of the girls had brought me in a glass
8 the soft breeze that came floating owe


the chimney-pots and sooty roofs waite,
n IN ma the accent Of the humble LITTLE bloe