"I won't promise, Nancy. Perhaps mother would prefer to keep it a secret."
"Oh, well, keep your secrets, if you want to."
"Don't be angry, Nancy; I will tell you if I can," and Luke hurried upstairs to the third story, which contained the three rooms occupied by his mother, his little brother, and himself.
Opening the door, he saw his mother sitting in a rocking-chair, apparently in deep thought, for the work had fallen from her hands and lay in her lap. There was an expression of sadness in her face, as if she had been thinking of the happy past, when the little family was prosperous, and undisturbed by poverty or privation.
"What's the matter, mother?" asked Luke, with solicitude.
Mrs. Walton looked up quickly.
"I have been longing to have you come back, Luke," she said. "Something strange has happened to-day."
"You received a letter, did you not?"
"Who told you, Luke?"
"Nancy. I met her as I came in. She said she brought up the letter, and that you appeared very much agitated when you opened it."