"Have you seen anything of father?" asked the little girl.
"I haven't; Abner says he hasn't been to the stable to-day. Haven't you any lights?" asked Harry, as he entered the dark room.
"We haven't got any oil, nor any candles."
In the fireplace, a piece of pine board was blazing, which cast a faint and fitful glare into the room; and Harry was thus enabled to behold the scene which the miserable home of the drunkard presented.
In one corner was a dilapidated bedstead, on which lay the sick woman. Drawn from under it was a trundle bed, upon which lay two small children, who had evidently been put to bed at that early hour to keep them warm, for the temperature of the apartment was scarcely more comfortable than that of the open air. It was a cheerless home; and the faint light of the blazing board only served to increase the desolate appearance of the place.
"Who is it?" asked the sick woman, faintly.
"The boy that works at the stable," replied the lame girl.
"My name is Harry West, marm; and I come to see if you wanted anything," added Harry.
"We want a great many things," sighed she. "Can you tell me where my husband is?"
"I can't; he hasn't been at the stable to-day."