wing pain yourself. Don't make him so
sad!"

The child seemed struck, hung down her head for a moment, as if in
thought, and then, jumping from Morton's lap, ran to Gawtrey, put up her
pouting lips, and said:

"One kiss more!"

Gawtrey kissed her, and turned away his head.

"Fanny is a good girl!" and Fanny, as she spoke, went back to Morton,
and put her little fingers into her eyes, as if either to shut out
Gawtrey's retreat from her sight, or to press back her tears.

"Give me the doll now, sister Marie."

Morton smiled and sighed, placed the child, who struggled no more, in
the nun's arms, and left the room; but as he closed the door he looked
back, and saw that Fanny had escaped from the sister, thrown herself on
the floor, and was crying, but not loud.

"Is she not a little darling?" said Gawtrey, as they gained the street.

"She is, indeed, a most beautiful child!"

"And you will love her if I leave her penniless," said Gawtrey,
abruptly. "It was your love for your mother and your brother that made
me like you from the first. Ay," continued Gawtrey, in a tone of great
earnestness, "ay, and whatever may happen to me, I will strive and keep
you, my poor lad, harmless; and what is better, innocent even of such
matters as sit light enough on my own well-seasoned conscience. In turn,
if ever you have the power, be good to her,--yes, be good to her! and I
won't say a harsh word to you if ever you like to turn king's evidence
against myself."

"Gawtrey!" said Morton, reproachfully, and almost fiercely.

"Bah!--such things are! But tell me honestly, do you think she is very
strange--very deficient?"

"I have not seen enough of her to judge," answered Morton, evasively.

"She is so changeful," persisted Gawtrey. "Sometimes you would say
that she was above her age, she comes out with such thoughtful, clever
things; then, the next moment, she throws me into despair. These nuns
are very skilful in education--at least they are said to be so. The
doctors give me hope, too. You see, her poor mother was very unhappy
at the time of her birth--delirious, indeed: that may account for it. I
often fancy that it is the constant excitement which her state occasions
me that makes me love her so much. You see she is one who can never
shift for herself. I must get money for her; I have left a little
already with the superior, and I would not touch it to save myself from
famine! If she has money people will be kind enough to