aighten out things
after all; for Mr Oswald had been walking up and down the room in
silence for the last half-hour, "looking as black as thunder," Miss
Bethia said, in confidence, to Debby, and no one else had spoken a word.
It was a very painful half-hour to Mr Oswald. He had only begun his
walk when it seemed to him impossible that he could sit and look at the
pale, patient face and drooping figure of the widow a single moment
more. For he was in a great strait. He was in almost the saddest
position that a man not guilty of positive wrong can occupy. He was a
poor man, supposed to be rich. For years, his income had scarcely
sufficed for the expenses of his family; for the last year it had not
sufficed. It was necessary for the success of his business, or, he
supposed, it was necessary that he should be considered a rich man; and
he had harassed himself and strained every nerve to keep up appearances,
and now he was saying to himself that this new claim upon him could not
possibly be met. He was not a hard man, though he had sometimes been
called so. At this moment, his heart was very tender over the widow and
her children; and it was the thought that, in strict justice, he had no
right to do for them as he wished to do, that gave him so much pain.
Waiting would not make it better, however, and in a little while he came
and sat down by Mrs Inglis, and said:

"It seems cruel that I should expect you to speak about--anything
to-night. But, indeed, it is quite necessary that I should return home
to-morrow, and I might be able to advise you, if you would tell me your
plans."

But, as yet, Mrs Inglis had no plans.

"It came so suddenly," said she, speaking with difficulty; "and--you are
very kind."

"Will you tell me just how your affairs stand? Unless there is some one
else who can do it better, I will gladly help you in your arrangements
for the future."

There was no one else, and it was not at all difficult to tell him the
state of their affairs. They were not at all involved. There were no
debts. The rent of the house was paid till the next autumn; there were
some arrears of salary, and Mrs Inglis had a claim on a minister's
widow's fund in connection with the branch of the church to which her
husband had belonged, but the sum mentioned as the possible annual
amount she would receive was so small, that, in Mr Oswald's mind, it
counted for nothing. And that was all! Mr Oswald was amazed.

"Was th