Chapter 2 - Page 2

poor and mean; and disorder added to the unattractive appearance of the room in which the sick woman lay.

"I'm sorry to find you no better," said Mrs. Markland, after making a few inquiries of the sick woman.

"I shall never be any better, I'm afraid," was the desponding answer.

"Never! Never is a long day, as the proverb says. Did you ever hear of a night that had no morning?" There was a cheerful tone and manner about Mrs Markland that had its effect; but, ere replying, Mrs. Elder's dim eyes suddenly brightened, as some movement in the room attracted her attention.

"Bless the child! Look at her!" And the sick woman glanced toward Aggy, who, bearing in mind her mother's words, was already busying herself in the work of bringing order out of disorder.

"Look at the dear creature!" added Mrs. Elder, a glow of pleasure flushing her countenance, a moment before so pale and sad.

Unconscious of observation, Aggy, with almost a woman's skill, had placed first the few old chairs that were in the room, against the wall, at regular distances from each other. Then she cleared the littered floor of chips, pieces of paper, and various articles that had been left about by the untidy girl who was Mrs. Elder's only attendant, and next straightened the cloth on the table, and arranged the mantel-piece so that its contents no longer presented an unsightly aspect.

"Where is the broom, Mrs. Elder?" inquired the busy little one, coming now to the bedside of the invalid.

"Never mind the broom, dear; Betsy will sweep up the floor when she comes in," said Mrs. Elder. "Thank you for a kind, good little girl. You've put a smile on every thing in the room. What a grand housekeeper you are going to make!"

Aggy's heart bounded with a new emotion. Her young cheeks glowed, and her blue eyes sparkled. If the pleasure she felt lacked any thing of pure delight, a single glance at her mother's face made all complete.

"When did you hear from your daughter?" asked Mrs. Markland.

There was a change of countenance and a sigh.

"Oh! ma'am, if Lotty were only here, I would be happy, even in sickness and suffering. It's very hard to be separated from my child."

"She is in Charleston?"

"Yes, ma'am,"

"Is her husband doing well?"

"I can't say that he is. He isn't a very thrifty man, though steady enough."

"Why did they go to Charleston?"

"He thought he would do better there than here; but they haven't done as well, and Lotty is very unhappy."

"Do they talk of returning?"

"Yes, ma'am; they're both sick enough of their new home. But then it costs a heap of money to move about with a family, and they haven't