ied the lad, grinning sheepishly, as he began to
gather up the spilled treasure, "I'm making--a piller."

"A what?"

"A piller,--to sleep on. There an't but two feathers in the one on my
bed, and they are so lean I can't feel 'em."

"What foolishness!" muttered Mr. Royden, smiling notwithstanding his
ill-humor. "But let your _pillow_ alone for the present, and take care
of the horse."

"The bag won't stand up, if I leave it."

"Then let it fall down; or set it against the wood-pile. Go and do as I
bid you."

Samuel reluctantly left his occupation, and went lazily to unharness the
horse, while Mr. Royden entered the old-fashioned kitchen.

The appearance of her uncle was anything but agreeable to poor Hepsy
Royden, who stood on a stool at the sink,--her deformed little body
being very short,--engaged in preparing some vegetables for cooking.
Tears were coursing down her sickly cheeks, and her hands being in the
water, it was not convenient to wipe her eyes. But, knowing how Mr.
Royden hated tears, she made a hasty snatch at a towel to conceal them.
He was just in time to observe the movement.

"Now, what is the matter?" he exclaimed, fretfully. "I never see you,
lately, but you are crying."

Hepsy choked back her swelling grief, and pursued her work in silence.

"What ails you, child?"

"I can't tell. I--I wish I was different," she murmured, consulting the
towel again; "but I am not very happy."

"Come, come! cheer up!" rejoined Mr. Royden, more kindly, feeling a
slight moisture in his own eyes. "Don't be so down-hearted!"

His words sounded to him like mockery. It was easy to say to a poor,
sickly, deformed girl "Be cheerful!" but how could cheerfulness be
expected of one in her condition?

He passed hastily into the adjoining room; and Hepsy sobbed audibly over
the sink. She was even more miserable than he could conceive of. It was
not her unattractive face and curved spine, in themselves, that caused
her deep grief,--although she had longed, till her heart ached with
longing, to be like her beautiful cousins,--but she felt that she was an
unloved one, repulsive even to those who regarded her with friendly
pity.

Mr. Royden had left the door unlatched behind him, and Hepsy heard him
speak to his wife. Her heart swelled with thankfulness when he alluded
to herself; and the feeling with which he spoke surprised her, and made
her almost happy.

"You should not put too much on the poor child," he said