poor child to come down awhile this
evening," said Mrs. Tinknor very gently.

"A handsome fortune is not to be obtained by marriage every day," said
the Squire.

"A noble-hearted, whole-souled woman like Little Wolf is not to be
obtained every day," said Mrs. Tinknor, "but, I never thought," said
she affectionately regarding her son, "that Little Wolf cherished
other than a sister's love for Tom."

Tom was silent, and, after a short pause, Mrs. Tinknor said, "when you
came in Tom, I was telling your father of a conversation I had with
Little Wolf last evening, concerning her going home with us, but she
thinks it best, on account of her dependent family, not to break up
house-keeping before Spring."

"Displaying thereby very little financial ability," said Tom, rather
contemptously.

"Tut, tut," said the Squire, "Little Wolf is posted. She knows just as
much about her father's affairs as I do, She would give me no rest
months ago, until I spread out the whole thing before her, and I
believe her to be as capable of managing the property, as a woman can
be.

"I reminded her of the extra expense attending house-keeping," said
Mrs. Tinknor, "but she said she felt it her duty to provide for those
poor creatures in her employment. There's Daddy, you know, cannot,
more than earn his board, and Mrs. Hawley besides being feeble, has no
other home, and nobody would do as well by an inefficient girl like
Sorrel Top, as she does, and then she has decided to take Fanny Green
into her family for the winter."

"Now, who is Fanny Green?" broke in Tom.

"Why, she is the little girl whose father killed his wife in a fit of
intoxication, and then ran off leaving the child to the charity of
strangers, and I think Little Wolf said, she was cruelly treated in
the family where she is now living, and the family do not wish to be
burdened with her.

"Well, _well_" said Tom, drawing a long breath, "I'm convinced Little
Wolf will be a moping old maid, dressed in black, managing well her
property, devising philanthropic plans for the benefit of paupers, she
is getting too good for any man that lives."

"The best of it is, she does not even know she is doing a good thing,"
said Mrs. Tinknor smilingly.

Tom got up and walked impatiently to the window. Having accompanied
his parents, with a view, to himself wipe away the few natural tears,
that he imagined bedewed the rosy cheeks of Little Wolf, and pour into
her willing ear a volume