many's the time when you have been fast asleep that I have
sat up half the night--men--men--mending the house linen; and you have
not been the same man, Roger, since that boy came!"

"Well, well" said the good man, quite overcome, and fairly taking her
round the waist and kissing her; "no words between us; it makes life
quite unpleasant. If it pains you to have Sidney here, I will put him
to some school in the town, where they'll be kind to him. Only, if
you would, Margaret, for my sake--old girl! come, now! there's a
darling!--just be more tender with him. You see he frets so after his
mother. Think how little Tom would fret if he was away from you! Poor
little Tom!"

"La! Mr. Morton, you are such a man!--there's no resisting your ways!
You know how to come over me, don't you?"

And Mrs. Morton smiled benignly, as she escaped from his conjugal arms
and smoothed her cap.

Peace thus restored, Mr. Morton refilled his pipe, and the good lady,
after a pause, resumed, in a very mild, conciliatory tone:

"I'll tell you what it is, Roger, that vexes me with that there child.
He is so deceitful, and he does tell such fibs!"

"Fibs! that is a very bad fault," said Mr. Morton, gravely. "That must
be corrected."

"It was but the other day that I saw him break a pane of glass in the
shop; and when I taxed him with it, he denied it;--and with such a face!
I can't abide storytelling."

"Let me know the next story he tells; I'll cure him," said Mr. Morton,
sternly. "You now how I broke Tom of it. Spare the rod, and spoil the
child. And where I promised to be kind to the boy, of course I did not
mean that I was not to take care of his morals, and see that he grew up
an honest man. Tell truth and shame the devil--that's my motto."

"Spoke like yourself, Roger," said Mrs. Morton, with great animation.
"But you see he has not had the advantage of such a father as you. I
wonder your sister don't write to you. Some people make a great fuss
about their feelings; but out of sight out of mind."

"I hope she is not ill. Poor Catherine! she looked in a very bad way
when she was here," said Morton; and he turned uneasily to the fireplace
and sighed.

Here the servant entered with the supper-tray, and the conversation fell
upon other topics.

Mrs. Roger Morton's charge against Sidney was, alas! too true. He had
acquired, under that roof, a terrible habit of telling stories. He had
never incurred that vice with his mother, because t