"There is none in the house," faintly murmured the almost broken-hearted mother.
"Good heavens!" said Mr. Williams—"you are not without food, surely?"
"We have tasted nothing to-day," was the startling reply.
"Where is Mr. Haller?"
"I know not—he left the house a short time ago."
"He ran out when he struck you, mother," spoke up the little child who had asked for the bread.
Mr. and Mrs. Williams looked at each other for some moments in silence.
"Get a basket and come with me, John," said Mr. Williams, to the oldest boy, who was gazing on with indifference or stupidity.
Mechanically he took a basket and followed his uncle. They soon returned with bread, dried meat, ham, &c., and in a brief space, a comfortable meal was prepared for the starving family.
Conscience felt about the heart of Mrs. Williams that night, with touches of pain, and she repented of her cruel neglect, and unkind treatment of her sister. She dreamed not of the extent of her destitution and misery—simply, because she had refused to make herself acquainted with her real condition. Now that the sad reality had been forced upon her almost unwilling eyes, a few returning impulses of nature demanded relief for her suffering sister.