we might send these to London next week," she said, looking
up as her daughter entered the room. "George will want a really warm
greatcoat for the winter, and this one of your father's--why, Effie, my
dear----" She stopped abruptly, and gazed up at Effie's best hat. "Where
are you going, my love?" she said. "I thought you could help me this
morning."

"I am going out, mother, for a little."

"But where to? Why have you your best things on?"

"I am going to the Harveys'."

"To the Harveys'--to The Grange?"

Mrs. Staunton shuddered slightly; she turned her head aside. "Why are
you going there?" she asked, after a pause.

"I want to see them--I won't be long away. Please, mother, don't tire
yourself over all that mending now."

"It interests me, my dear; I find it impossible to sit with my hands
before me. I am stronger than I used to be. I have got to live for
George; and George is young, he is entering life, he must not be saddled
with an old, ailing mother. I must get strong, I must get back my youth
for his sake. Don't be long away, Effie, dear. I wonder you like to go
to the Harveys' under the circumstances, but you know best. Children are
very independent nowadays," concluded Mrs. Staunton, with a sigh.

Effie went up to her mother and kissed her, then she softly left the
room.

The day was a particularly fine one, the sun shone brightly upon the
little High Street. Effie walked quickly; she soon turned into a shady
lane, the lane led her into the highroad. By and by she stopped at the
gates of The Grange.

The woman of the lodge came out when she saw her. This woman had been
fond of Dr. Staunton, and she recognized Effie.

Effie's little figure, her heavy black dress, her crepe hat, her white
cheeks and dark eyes, all appealed with great pathos to the woman. She
ran towards her with outstretched hands.

"Miss Effie, my dear, you're welcome," she said. She caught Effie's
little white hands in her hard, toil-worn ones. "You are welcome, Miss
Effie," she repeated; "it is good of you to come. Eh, dear, but it goes
to the heart to see you in that deep black! Come in and rest, my dear
young lady--come in and rest."

"I cannot just now, Mrs. Jones," replied Effie. "I am in a hurry--I want
to go up to see the Squire on business."

"And how is your mother, poor lady--how is she bearing up, my dear?"

"Wonderfully," said Effie. "I'll come and see you another day, Mrs.
Jones."

"Eh, do! you'll be more than