'No, indeed, Mr. Hale, it was those beds at Sir John's. Now,

Margaret, you're young enough, and go about in the day; are the

beds comfortable? I appeal to you. Do they give you a feeling of

perfect repose when you lie down upon them; or rather, don't you

toss about, and try in vain to find an easy position, and waken

in the morning as tired as when you went to bed?' Margaret laughed. 'To tell the truth, mamma, I've never thought

about my bed at all, what kind it is. I'm so sleepy at night,

that if I only lie down anywhere, I nap off directly. So I don't

think I'm a competent witness. But then, you know, I never had

the opportunity of trying Sir John Beresford's beds. I never was

at Oxenham.' 'Were not you? Oh, no! to be sure. It was poor darling Fred I

took with me, I remember. I only went to Oxenham once after I was

married,--to your Aunt Shaw's wedding; and poor little Fred was

the baby then. And I know Dixon did not like changing from lady's

maid to nurse, and I was afraid that if I took her near her old

home, and amongst her own people, she might want to leave me. But

poor baby was taken ill at Oxenham, with his teething; and, what

with my being a great deal with Anna just before her marriage,

and not being very strong myself, Dixon had more of the charge of

him than she ever had before; and it made her so fond of him, and

she was so proud when he would turn away from every one and cling

to her, that I don't believe she ever thought of leaving me

again; though it was very different from what she'd been

accustomed to. Poor Fred! Every body loved him. He was born with

the gift of winning hearts. It makes me think very badly of

Captain Reid when I know that he disliked my own dear boy. I

think it a certain proof he had a bad heart. Ah! Your poor

father, Margaret. He has left the room. He can't bear to hear

Fred spoken of.' 'I love to hear about him, mamma. Tell me all you like; you never

can tell me too much. Tell me what he was like as a baby.' 'Why, Margaret, you must not be hurt, but he was much prettier

than you were. I remember, when I first saw you in Dixon's arms,

I said, "Dear, what an ugly little thing!" And she said, "It's

not every child that's like Master Fred, bless him!" Dear! how

well I remember it. Then I could have had Fred in my arms every

minute of the day, and his cot was close by my bed; and now,

now--Margaret--I don't know where my boy is, and sometimes I

think I shall never see him again.' Margaret sat down by her mother's sofa on a little stool, and

softly took hold of her hand, caressing it and kissing it, as if

to comfort. Mrs. Hale cried without restraint. At last, she sat

straight, stiff up on the sofa, and turning round to her

daughter, she said with tearful, almost solemn earnestness,

'Margaret, if I can get better,--if God lets me have a chance of

recovery, it must be through seeing my son Frederick once more.

It will waken up all the poor springs of health left in me.




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