skine's heart was filled with new hopes and
anticipations, as she saw before her means and sources of happiness,
higher and more extended than she had ever before enjoyed.

When the time approached for moving into the new house Mary Erskine
occupied herself, whenever she had any leisure time, in packing up
such articles as were not in use. One afternoon while she was engaged
in this occupation, Albert came home from the field much earlier than
usual. Mary Erskine was very glad to see him, as she wished him to
nail up the box in which she had been packing her cups and saucers.
She was at work on the stoop, very near the door, so that she could
watch the children. The baby was in the cradle. The other child, whose
name was Bella, was playing about the floor.

Albert stopped a moment to look at Mary Erskine's packing, and then
went in and took his seat upon the settle.

"Tell me when your box is ready," said he, "and I will come and nail
it for you."

Bella walked along toward her father--for she had just learned to
walk--and attempted to climb up into his lap.

"Run away, Bella," said Albert.

Mary Erskine was surprised to hear Albert tell Bella to run away, for
he was usually very glad to have his daughter come to him when he got
home from his work. She looked up to see what was the matter. He was
sitting upon the settle, and leaning his head upon his hand.

Mary Erskine left her work and went to him.

"Are you not well, Albert?" said she.

"My head aches a little. It ached in the field, and that was the
reason why I thought I would come home. But it is better now. Are you
ready for me to come and nail the box?"

"No," said Mary, "not quite; and besides, it is no matter about it
to-night. I will get you some tea."

"No," said Albert, "finish your packing first, and I will come and
nail it. Then we can put it out of the way."

Mary Erskine accordingly finished her packing, and Albert went to it,
to nail the cover on. He drove one or two nails, and then he put the
hammer down, and sat down himself upon the box, saying that he could
not finish the nailing after all. He was too unwell. He went into the
room, Mary Erskine leading and supporting him. She conducted him to
the bed and opened the curtains so as to let him lie down. She helped
him to undress himself, and then left him, a few minutes while she
began to get some tea. She moved the box, which she had been packing,
away from the stoop door, and put it i