's
missive with more ardour; sometimes he wrote one day, sometimes
another, but always once a week, and Mrs. Kensett kept a sharp look
out for the postman; when the time drew near for him to come she made
many journeys down the stairs to see if she could get a glimpse of
him. When the expected letter was not forthcoming she felt somehow as
if the postman were to blame. But when he did come, ah! that was the
one bright day of the week; how she read and re-read it, and put it
in her pocket and thought it over, while she went on with her
knitting, then when some little point was not quite distinct in her
mind, brought it out and read it again, so that by the time another
one came this one was worn out. John's wife thought to regulate this
one small pleasant excitement of her mother-in-law's life by
remarking to her husband that "somebody ought to tell Benjamin to
write on a particular day, mother was so fidgety when it was time for
the mail."

How small a thing is a letter to make one happy! and yet some of us
let the sword pierce the dear mother heart by withholding that which
costs us so little. God pity us when our mothers are gone beyond the
reach of voice or pen.

One day her letter contained news of great importance. It was read
and pondered long. Benjie was going to be married! The mother did not
like the news; somehow in all her plans for Benjie the wife had not
come in. Now this would be the last of her comfort in him; he would
marry and settle down, and probably be just like John--given up to
business. He pictured out his future bride as good and lovely. Of
course he thought so, but poor Mrs. Kensett could get no vision of a
daughter-in-law except a tall woman with severe expression. "She is
an heiress," Benjie wrote. Well, what of that? John's wife had
property too. She would likely be proud, and ashamed of a plain old
woman like her.

Benjamin was no fortune-hunter; he was hard at work in his profession
with no other ambition directly before him but to get together a
humble home to which he might take his mother; he intended to
surprise her as soon as his income would at all warrant it. But as
John Milton when he met Mary Powell fastened his eyes earnestly upon
her, knowing that he had found "Mistress Milton," so Benjamin, the
first Sabbath he took a class in the mission Sabbath-school, and
found himself near neighbour to a sweet-faced young teacher, knew
that no other face in all the world could so closel