He is rather a wilful lad, my poor darling, and is very delicate besides.

Now, it seems, by my uncle's marriage and death he has lost all the prospect he had in life.

And worst of all he has run away.

And my mother is so ill.

It will kill her." Miss Davis bowed her pale worn face on her hands, and Hetty, young as she was, seemed to feel the whole meaning of this poor woman's life, her struggles to help others, her unselfish anxieties, her love of her mother and brother hidden away under a quiet, grave exterior.