"I would adopt her for my own, and provide for her liberally," said Mr. Smith. "Come, Mrs. Shipton, you're a sensible woman, you know how much better it would be for your child."
"I cannot give her up, sir," said the mother anxiously; "she is too young to leave me."
"Well, then, may I have Ellen?"
Ellen shrank to her mother's side. "No, no!" she whispered. A disappointed look crossed the old man's face. "Come, Mrs. Shipton, you are slaving your life away for these children, will you lose so good a chance of providing for one of them?"
"I'll go if I ought, mother, if it would be better for you and the others," said Ellen bravely; but she put her hands over her face, that her mother might not see how much those words cost her.
"No, sir," said the widow firmly, as she drew her children closely to her; "God has given me these children, and he will give me the means of keeping them."
Mr. Smith cleared his throat violently.
"Well, then," he muttered, "I suppose I must live and die—lonely—lonely."
Mrs. Shipton's eye wandered wistfully to Maurice, who was looking on with eyes full of wonder.
"Sir, you are very, very kind," she said, and then paused.