right, sitting down on the
settle, and removing her huge black bonnet to fan herself with it.

'You always sigh when you speak of poor Jack! He is so good and kind. Is
he going to die?' she asked, distressed.

'Heaven forbid!' cried Mrs. Wright, aghast. 'Why, what are you thinking
of, child? My Jack die!'

'Why are you always so sad about him if he is not going to die?'

Mrs. Wright was unusually moved. Instead of answering, she hastily
collected all the walking things, and carried them off to her room. Much
astonished, as well as conscious that she had asked an unwise question,
which must have sounded like prying, Estelle, in distress, ran into the
bedroom.

Mrs. Wright was on her knees at the bedside, sobbing as she murmured her
prayers for her 'dear boy.'

Horrified and startled, Estelle slipped away again without disturbing
her, taking refuge among the cushions of the couch. Here she cried
hysterically till she suddenly found herself lifted bodily up in Jack's
powerful arms.

'Worn out, little Missie?' he asked, softly. 'It was too long for a
first trip.'

'No, it is not that, you dear, kind Jack!' she sobbed. 'But I have made
Mrs. Wright angry with me, and I didn't mean to--indeed, I didn't.'

'Angry!' returned Jack, surprised. 'Mother has not been angry for years,
that I know of. I can't just believe that, Missie. Let's come and see
what it's all about.'

'Oh, no!' cried Estelle, shocked at the idea. 'She is crying, and saying
her prayers, and they are all for you.'

Jack's face flushed suddenly into a deep red.

'Oh!' he said in a peculiar tone. Estelle thought it sounded as if he
were too sorry for words. He did not again offer to take her to his
mother.

'I am sorry. I did not know I should hurt her, or I would never have
asked her---- ' cried Estelle, looking up in surprise and dismay at the
change in his face.

Putting her down, Jack arranged her couch more comfortably. She had
tossed all the cushions into a heap in her agitation, and while
replacing them he said quietly: 'You have made a mistake, Missie. Mother
is not angry with you. She is sorry for me; I have not been what I
ought, after all her love and good training. I will go to her now, and
she will soon be all right. Poor Mother!' he ended, with a sigh like his
mother's.

Before he had time, however, to get to the bedroom, Mrs. Wright
appeared, and returned his look of anxiety by stretching up to give him
a kiss. Estelle was glad