try and
accept her method as being a part of her, and try, instead of wincing
every time that she touches the sore, to accustom yourself to it. It may
be hard at first, but it will be far easier in the end."

Ned stood silent for a minute or two; then he said:

"I will try, sir. My father's last words to me were to be kind to
mother, and I have tried hard, and I will go on trying."

"That is right, my boy; and ask God to help you. We all have our
trials in this life, and this at present is yours; pray God to give you
strength to bear it."

CHAPTER VIII: NED IS SORELY TRIED

Among the many who called upon Mrs. Sankey after the death of her
husband was Mr. Mulready, the owner of a mill near Marsden. He was one
of the leading men in the place, although his mill was by no means a
large one. He took rank in the eyes of the little town with men in a
much larger way of business by means of a pushing manner and a fluent
tongue. He had come to be considered an authority upon most subjects.
He paid much attention to his dress, and drove the fastest horse and the
best got up gig in that part of the country; but it was Mr. Mulready's
manner which above all had raised him to his present position in the
esteem of the good people of Marsden. He had the knack of adapting
himself to the vein of those he addressed.

With the farmers who came into market he was bluff and cordial; with the
people in general he was genial and good tempered. At meetings at which
the county gentry were present he was quiet, businesslike, and a trifle
deferential, showing that he recognized the difference between his
position and theirs.

With ladies he was gay when they were gay, sympathetic when sympathy was
expected. With them he was even more popular than with the men, for
the latter, although they admired and somewhat envied his varied
acquirements, were apt in the intimacy of private conversation to speak
of him as a humbug.

There was one exception, however, to his general popularity. There
was no mill owner in the neighborhood more heartily detested by his
workpeople; but as these did not mingle with the genteel classes of
Marsden their opinion of Mr. Mulready went for nothing. The mill owner
was a man of forty-three or forty-four, although when dressed in his
tightly fitting brown coat with its short waist, its brass buttons, and
high collar, and with a low hat with narrow brim worn well forward and
coming down almost to the bridge o