her bosom, fell to crying and sobbing along with her.

This canine devotion took Lady Bassett by surprise. She turned her
tearful eyes upon her sympathizing servant, and said, "Oh, Mary!" and
her soft hand pressed the girl's harder palm gratefully.

Mary spoke first. "Oh, my lady," she sobbed, "it breaks my heart to see
you so. And what a shame to blame you for what is no fault of yourn. If
I was your husband the cradles would soon be full in this house; but
these fine gentlemen, they be old before their time with smoking of
tobacco; and then to come and lay the blame on we!"

"Mary, I value you very much--more than I ever did a servant in my
life; but if you speak against your master we shall part."

"La, my lady, I wouldn't for the world. Sir Charles is a perfect
gentleman. Why, he gave me a sovereign only the other day for nursing
of him; but he didn't ought to blame you for no fault of yourn, and to
make you cry. It tears me inside out to see you cry; you that is so
good to rich and poor. I wouldn't vex myself so for that: dear heart,
'twas always so; God sends meat to one house, and mouths to another."

"I could be patient if poor Sir Charles was not so unhappy," sighed
Lady Bassett; "but if ever you are a wife, Mary, you will know how
wretched it makes us to see a beloved husband unhappy."

"Then I'd make him happy," said Mary.

"Ah, if I only could!"

"Oh, I could tell you a way; for I have known it done; and now he is as
happy as a prince. You see, my lady, some men are like children; to
make them happy you must give them their own way; and so, if I was in
your place, I wouldn't make two bites of a cherry, for sometimes I
think he will fret himself out of the world for want on't."

"Heaven forbid!"

"It is my belief you would not be long behind him."

"No, Mary. Why should I?"

"Then--whisper, my lady!"

And, although Lady Bassett drew slightly back at this freedom, Mary
Wells poured into her ear a proposal that made her stare and shiver.

As for the girl's own face, it was as unmoved as if it had been bronze.

Lady Bassett drew back, and eyed her askant with amazement and terror.

"What is this you have dared to say?"

"Why, it is done every day."

"By people of your class, perhaps. No; I don't believe it. Mary, I have
been mistaken in you. I am afraid you are a vicious girl. Leave me,
please. I can't bear the sight of you."

Mary went away, very red, and the tear in her eye.

In the ev