"Heaven grant it, my child! Heaven grant it! Oh, those Le Noirs! those

Le Noirs! Were there ever in the world before such ruthless villains

and accomplished hypocrites?" said Marah Rocke, clasping her hands in

the strength of her emotions.

A long time yet they talked together, and then they retired to bed, and

still talked until they fell asleep in each other's arms.

The next morning the widow arose early, gazed a little while with

delight upon the sleeping daughter of her heart, pressed a kiss upon

her cheek so softly as not to disturb her rest, and then, leaving her

still in the deep, sweet sleep of wearied youth, she went down-stairs

to get a nice breakfast.

Luckily a farmer's cart was just passing the road before the cottage on

its way to market.

Marah took out her little purse from her pocket, hailed the driver and

expended half her little store in purchasing two young chickens, some

eggs and some dried peaches, saying to herself: "Dear Clara always had a good appetite, and healthy young human nature

must live substantially in spite of all its little heart-aches."

While Marah was preparing the chicken for the gridiron the door at the

foot of the stairs opened and Clara came in, looking, after her night's

rest, as fresh as a rosebud.

"What! up with the sun, my darling?" said Marah, going to meet her.

"Yes, mamma! Oh! it is so good to be here with you in this nice, quiet

place, with no one to make me shudder! But you must let me help you,

mamma! See! I will set the table and make the toast!"

"Oh, Miss Clara----"

"Yes, I will! I have been ill used and made miserable, and now you must

pet me, mamma, and let me have my own way and help you to cook our

little meals and to make the house tidy and afterward to work those

buttonholes in the shirts you were spoiling your gentle eyes over last

night. Oh! if they will only let me stay here with you and be at peace,

we shall be very happy together, you and I!" said Clara, as she drew

out the little table and laid the cloth.

"My dear child, may the Lord make you as happy as your sweet affection

would make me!" said Marah.

"We can work for our living together," continued Clara, as she gaily

flitted about from the dresser to the table, placing the cups and

saucers and plates. "You can sew the seams and do the plain hemming,

and I can work the buttonholes and stitch the bosoms, collars and

wristbands! And 'if the worst comes to the worst,' we can hang out our

little shingle before the cottage gate, inscribed with: "MRS. ROCKE AND DAUGHTER.

Shirt Makers.

Orders executed with neatness and dispatch.




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