d
to be trying to make up his mind to enter. In mental connection with the
two hundred pounds, she noticed that the stranger was well dressed, and
wore a silk hat of glossy newness. Three times he paused at the gate,
and then walked on again. The fourth time he stood with his hand upon
it, and then with sudden resolution flung it open and walked up the path.
Mrs. White at the same moment placed her hands behind her, and hurriedly
unfastening the strings of her apron, put that useful article of apparel
beneath the cushion of her chair.

She brought the stranger, who seemed ill at ease, into the room. He
gazed at her furtively, and listened in a preoccupied fashion as the old
lady apologized for the appearance of the room, and her husband's coat, a
garment which he usually reserved for the garden. She then waited as
patiently as her sex would permit, for him to broach his business, but he
was at first strangely silent.

"I--was asked to call," he said at last, and stooped and picked a piece
of cotton from his trousers. "I come from 'Maw and Meggins.'"

The old lady started. "Is anything the matter?" she asked,
breathlessly. "Has anything happened to Herbert? What is it? What is
it?"

Her husband interposed. "There, there, mother," he said, hastily. "Sit
down, and don't jump to conclusions. You've not brought bad news, I'm
sure, sir;" and he eyed the other wistfully.

"I'm sorry--" began the visitor.

"Is he hurt?" demanded the mother, wildly.

The visitor bowed in assent. "Badly hurt," he said, quietly, "but he is
not in any pain."

"Oh, thank God!" said the old woman, clasping her hands. "Thank God for
that! Thank--"

She broke off suddenly as the sinister meaning of the assurance dawned
upon her and she saw the awful confirmation of her fears in the other's
perverted face. She caught her breath, and turning to her slower-witted
husband, laid her trembling old hand upon his. There was a long silence.

"He was caught in the machinery," said the visitor at length in a low
voice.

"Caught in the machinery," repeated Mr. White, in a dazed fashion, "yes."

He sat staring blankly out at the window, and taking his wife's hand
between his own, pressed it as he had been wont to do in their old
courting-days nearly forty years before.

"He was the only one left to us," he said, turning gently to the visitor.
"It is hard."

The other coughed, and rising, walked slowly to the window. "The firm