Albinia timidly pressed his hand, 'Work was always what I wished,'
she said, 'if only I could do anything to lighten your grief and
care.'

He gave a deep, heavy sigh. Albinia felt that if he had hoped to
have lessened the sadness, he had surely found it again at his own
door. He roused himself, however, to say, 'This is using you ill,
Albinia; no one is more sensible of it than I am.'

'I never sought more than you can give,' she murmured; 'I only wish
to do what I can for you, and you will not let me disturb you.'

'I am very grateful to you,' was his answer; a sad welcome for a
bride. 'And these poor children will owe everything to you.'

'I wish I may do right by them,' said Albinia, fervently.

'The flower of the flock'--began Mr. Kendal, but he broke off at
once.

Albinia had told Winifred that she could bear to have his wife's
memory first with him, and that she knew that she could not
compensate to him for his loss, but the actual sight of his dejection
came on her with a chill, and she had to call up all her energies and
hopes, and, still better, the thought of strength not her own, to
enable her to look cheerfully on the prospect. Sleep revived her
elastic spirits, and with eager curiosity she drew up her blind in
the morning, for the first view of her new home.

But there was a veil--moisture made the panes resemble ground glass,