"Ah!" remarked Mrs. Mansfield. "It's all very well for those who have nothing else to do to go to those meetings, but it wouldn't do for me to think of it."
Yet she sighed as she spoke, for she remembered that in her young days she had attended such services with delight. And the recollection induced her to add, "You can go if you like, Ellen."
But Ellen was not sure that she would like to go.
[CHAPTER II.]
JERRY'S TRIAL.
WHEN Ellen went upstairs to make the beds, she went first of all to a little room at the head of the stairs, known as Jerry's room. She lifted the latch with a careful hand, and entered with a light step.
The young sufferer she feared to disturb was not asleep, however, but greeted her with the words:
"Oh, Ellen! at last! I began to think you were not coming to see me this morning."
"Oh, Jerry, you know I should not fail to come," replied Ellen, as she kissed her little brother, all the dearer on account of the affliction which made him a helpless invalid.
It was sad to look upon Jerry's tiny, wasted face, almost as white as the pillow upon which it rested, and wearing such a pathetic expression of suffering. The blue veins so plainly visible on his temples, the dark circles beneath the sad eyes, the tremulous movement of the mouth, all bore witness to the pain he had so frequently to endure. Yet the smile with which he welcomed his sister was very sweet, and his tones more cheerful than one could have expected.