"I wish you'd promise me never to poach a rabbit, or anything else, again!"
"Not likely. What an aggravating woman you are, Jenny!"
"James, it's not honest. I never thought when I married you, you'd come to this."
But James Lethbridge only laughed. He was in too good spirits to be easily made angry, and would not take his wife's remarks seriously.
Mrs. Lethbridge cooked the rabbit for dinner, but she felt very unhappy; and after the mid-day meal was over, and she was washing up the plates, a few hot tears coursed down her cheeks. Molly, who was playing with the baby, noticed her mother's sorrow, and ran to her side.
"Mother!" she cried. "What is it?"
"Nothing I can tell you, my dear."
Molly was sadly distressed. She stood looking up into her mother's face with wistful, blue eyes. Her father and brothers had gone out, so, but for the baby, Mrs. Lethbridge and her little girl were alone.
"Don't you worry, my Molly. When you are older you shall know everything that troubles me. You'll be my right-hand. I know you will."
"But, mother, why do you cry? Does your head ache?"