"There! I have at least done one good thing to-day," he said, as he descended the stairs.
Agnes grudged every penny bestowed upon Madge, regarding it as so much taken from Herbert, who, she declared, had hardly decent clothes to wear. If Madge was so fond of sewing, she might work for her little brother. She was sure embroidering and braiding his dresses and petticoats was prettier work, and ought to be much more agreeable to her sisterly feelings, than sewing for a parcel of children who were no-way related to her.
And, besides, Agnes had a special spite towards the Home because Letty was one of the managers. Madge's charitable labours would have come to an untimely end but for her father's interference. He declared the child should work at what she liked and for whom she liked.
[CHAPTER XIV.]
A REMOVAL.
JOHN CASWELL'S business was by this time greatly extended, and he began to be favourably known outside of his native city. The Sisters' Hospital, the new wing of the Old Ladies' Home, and the new High-School building, were all models in their way; and people who were planning similar structures came from a distance to see them.
Beginning life as a simple carpenter's apprentice, John had put his whole heart and soul into his business, and never lost an opportunity of acquiring knowledge upon subjects connected with it. By the time he was out of his apprenticeship, he had accumulated quite a little library of books upon architecture, and some very rare and valuable illustrated works.
John was known as an architect of taste and science, as well as an honest and reliable builder; and so it came to pass that he was offered the contract for certain costly public buildings in a flourishing Western city, which would keep him busy for at least a year.
A good many things inclined John to accept the offer. Business was rather dull in T— just at that time; he was not unwilling to travel and see a little more of the world; he had an opportunity of renting his place advantageously to a careful tenant; and he believed the change would be good for Letty, who had never been quite strong since the death of her little boy.
Accordingly, the furniture was safely stored, and the books were left in care of Mrs. De Witt and Gatty, who also took charge of Ginger. He was now a veteran among cats, and growing very infirm; but Letty would almost as soon have thought of parting with a child as of having Ginger put out of the way. He had been little Alick's first and favourite playfellow, and was a memento of the last visit of Aunt Eunice; and Gatty promised that he should never want for meat so long as she had any herself. The new tenants—a middle-aged clergyman and his wife, without children—promised to take care of the garden; and the lady assumed the charge of Letty's poor-district and Sunday-school class.