kiss was then pressed upon her lips, and the old man turned away and
staggered rather than walked back into the house.

More calmly the mother parted with her child. It was a great trial
for Mrs. Bacon, but she now fully comprehended the great use to flow
from Mary's self-devotion, and, therefore, with her last kiss,
breathed a word of encouragement.

"It is for your father. Let that sustain you to the end." A few
moments more, and the stage rolled away, bearing with it the very
sunlight from the dwelling of Mr. Bacon. Poor old man! Restlessly
did he wander about for days after Mary's departure, unable to apply
himself, except for a little while at a time, to any work; but his
inquietude did not drive him back to the cup he had abandoned. No,
he saw in it too clearly the cause of his present deep distress, to
look upon and feel its allurement. What had banished from her
pleasant home that beloved child, and sent her forth among strangers
to toil from early morning until the going down of the sun? Could he
love the cause of this great evil? No! There was yet enough virtue
in his heart to save him. Love for his child was stronger than his
depraved love of strong drink. A few more ineffectual efforts were
made to turn Mr. Green from his resolution to hold Mary to her
contract, and then the humbled father resigned himself to the
necessity he could not overcome, and with a clearer mind and a newly
awakened purpose, applied himself to the culture of his farm, which,
in a few months, had a more thrifty appearance than it had presented
for years.

In the mean time, Mary had entered one of the mills at Lowell, and
was doing her work there with a brave and cheerful spirit. Some