nd then the thought flashed upon her that she could sell
them, and thus add to the sum which her husband had invested in his own
name.

Ten thousand dollars, that was all, he had told her, and she had
calculated the income, only six hundred dollars a year to live on--less
than she now wasted yearly upon bric-a-brac and things of which she
tired so soon.

It was a sombre outlook, and it is not strange that her tears fell fast
upon the costly stones, whose value she could not guess, although she
knew it must be great, they were so superior in size and quality to any
she had ever seen.

'Yes, I will sell them,' she said, 'and invest the proceeds in my own
name; but even that will hardly keep the wolf from the door, for Frank
is growing more and more imbecile every day, and Tom is good for
nothing. He'll have to scratch for himself, though, I can tell him.'

Here her ladylike, but very characteristic, soliloquy was brought to an
end by a faint call, which had the power to drive every other thought
from her heart, for the mother-love was strong even with her, and going
to Maude, she asked what she wanted.

'Uncle Arthur,' Maude replied; 'I have not seen him yet. And Jerrie,
too, she has scarcely been here to-day.'

Maude's request was made known to Arthur, who, two or three hours later,
went to her room, and kissing her lips, told her how sorry he was to see
her so sick, and that he hoped she would soon be better.

Frank had been alone with Maude for a long time that day, and he was
with her now, sitting upon the side of her bed, near the head, with his
arm across her pillow, and his eyes fixed anxiously upon her as she held
her conference with his brother.

'No, uncle,' she said; 'I shall never be any better in this world; but
by-and-by, pretty soon, I shall be well in the other And I want to tell
you how glad I am for you and Jerrie, and to thank you for your kindness
to us all these years, when Jerrie should have been here in our place.'

'Yes, yes,' Arthur said, with a wave of his hand. 'Only I didn't know.
If I had--'

'It would have been so different,' Maude interrupted him. 'I know that,
but I want you to be kind to poor father still, and forgive him, he is
sorry, and--'

'Oh, Maude, Maude,' came like a groan from Frank, as he laid his hand on
Maude's lips, while Arthur replied:

'Forgive him! For what? He couldn't help being here. I sent for him. He
did not keep Jerrie from her rightful position as my