over all, flickered the glorious sunshine, as it gushed like a golden
flood through the clustering geraniums in the window.

"Good morning, sir!" said May, blithely, as she came in from the
kitchen with a covered plate in her hand.

"Good morning," he growled; "give me my breakfast."

"I thought you'd like a relish for your breakfast, sir, and I broiled a
few slices of beef; see how very nice it is," said May, uncovering the
plate, and placing it before him.

"Humph! well, don't do it again. I cannot afford such extravagance; I
must curtail my expenses. 'Gad! if I should have another beggar thrown
on my hands, we must starve," he said, bitterly.

May did not relish this speech at all; up rose the demon, _pride_, in
her soul, instigating her to a sharp retort, and vindictive anger; but
she thought of Bethlehem, and grew calm.

"I hope not, sir," she said, gently. "You have cast bread on the
waters; after many days it will return unto you--perhaps in an hour,
and at a time, dear uncle, when it will be much needed."

"Fudge, fudge!" he said, testily; "_I--I_ cast bread on the waters, do
I? Well, I am doing what is equally as foolish--it _is_ truly like
throwing bread into a _fish-pond_; but where's what's her name?"

"She slept poorly last night, and I would not awaken her this morning,"
said May, diverted in spite of herself.