me! He is very nice and pleasant, but he is awfully selfish. I hate
selfishness. Perhaps if Mrs. Liddell would undertake to keep the little
boys altogether it might make matters easier. Poor children! if I were
only rich I would never wish to part with them; but who can hold out
against poverty?"

The night which followed was sleepless to Mrs. Liddell. How could she
close her eyes when so much depended on the visit she hoped to receive
to-morrow? If this agent of John Liddell's was propitious, she might get
breathing-time and be able to wait till her manuscript brought forth
some fruit; if not--well she dared not think of the reverse. She
listened to the soft, regular breathing of her daughter, who was wrapped
in refreshing slumber, and thanked God for the quick forgetfulness of
youth. It was like a fresh draught of life and hope to think of her
courage and perseverance in finding out and affronting her miserly
uncle. Good must come of it.

Day dawned bright and clear, and the little party met as usual at
breakfast. Neither mother nor daughter had breathed a word of their
hopes or fears to the pretty widow. Breakfast over, they all dispersed
to their usual avocations. Katherine, downstairs, was consulting cook,
and Mrs. Liddell was wearily sorting and tearing up papers, when the
servant came into the study and said, "Please, 'm, there's a gentleman
wanting you.'

"Where have you put him?" asked Mrs. Liddell, glancing at the card
presented to her, on which was printed, "Mr. C. B. Newton, 26 Manchester
Buildings."

"He is by the door, 'm."