Lydia Purcell, who, clever and capable, was well equal to the emergency. There was no steward or overseer of the little property, but the farm was thoroughly and effic

n the old place and keep it alive. This grandchild was a girl of six, and Lydia was its nurse. For a year all went well; then the child, partly through Lydia's carelessness, caught a malignant fever, sickened, and

bold-looking creature, and where she chose to give love, that love was returned. She had loved her pretty little charge, and the child had lov

ed faithfully, she worked hard, and her clever and well-timed services became more valuable day by day. But no one now loved Lydia, not even old Mrs. Bell, and certainly she loved nobody. Of course th

he loved one thing-a base thing-she loved money. Lydia Pur

mulate for that son in Australia, who, childless as he was, would one day return to find himself tolerably rich. But still Lydia, without being dishonest, saved money. When old Mrs. Bell, a couple of years after her gra

ng the old dame in the fashion she loved. "I will stay with you,

good wages they must be

I will have in the spring every tenth lamb, and every tenth calf, to sell for myself, and I will s

at is very fair,

nch her contract, managed to put by a tidy sum of money year by year. She spent next to nothing on dress; all her wants were supplied. Nearly her whole income, theref

a warm supper. Lydia, however, though very careful, was not always very wise. Once a quarter she regularly took her savings to the bank in the little town of F-t, and on one of these occasions she was tempted to invest one hundred pounds

true that, as far as she could tell, Mrs. D'Albert's love might be still alive. But little Mercy Bell's small grave in the churchyard contained the only child that Lydia Purcell could abide. That little grave was always

heir money; for she reflected that they could live on the farm for next to nothing, and without in the least imagining

to her, and she wished that her s

y, during their short drive from the country stat

hem with lofty indifference. He chattered as unreservedly to Lydia Purcell as he did to Cecile or Toby, and for Maurice in consequence Lydia felt no special dislike; his fearlessness made his

ove you," Lydia saw the likeness between Mercy and Cecile at a glance, an

dislike; she was so old and invalidis

e children's arrival

y's voice I heard jus

ered Lydia, contracti

, I did hea

tress Bell. That

! Let me see t

sweet grave face, and stood gently by the little tremulous ol

e Pyrenees is like this very old woman," and when Mrs. Bell warmly returned her soft little caress, Cec

Mrs. Bell turned to Lydia and

r dear Mercy

get the idea out of the old la