will scarce
deign to soil her dainty hands with anything coarser than the
making of light pastry. Thou wilt spoil her for a city man's wife;
and I know not how Abraham Dyson will take it. Prudence is his
sister, to be sure, and it is to do her a kindness; but Jacob wants
a useful wife--and, as I understood, they were resolved not to
delay the marriage beyond Christmas. Rachel has been six months
wed, and the house wants a mistress who can move about and look to
things."

Martin was looking very thoughtful. He did not reply for a while,
and then he said slowly:

"Send the child to me, Susan; I will speak to her of this myself."

"Ay, thou hadst best do so, for I might as well speak to the walls
as to Keren Happuch," said Mistress Susan as she went on her way up
the stairs, by no means pleased at the easy fashion in which her
brother took this matter.

Susan loved a grand fuss and talk and discussion over every trifle
in the day's round, and this was more than a trifle. Her tongue was
as active as her hands, and she would talk by the hour as she
worked, until those about her grew weary of the very sound of her
voice.

Martin Holt, who was fully alive to his sister's many virtues and
valuable qualities, did find her something of a trial also, and it
never struck him as at all inexplicable that the self willed and
impetuous little Cherry should often be at loggerheads with her
aunt.

As she stole down the staircase and stood before him with a
wondering, questioning look in her big eyes, he eyed her keenly,
and could not but see that some of the bloom had faded from her
cheeks, and that she had in some way changed during the past
months.

"Cherry," he said, taking her small hand in his and speaking in an
unwontedly gentle way, "has thy aunt told thee wherefore I want
thee?"

"No, father; she said that thou wouldst tell me."

"And so I will; but tell me first if there is aught amiss with
thee. I have missed thy laugh of late, and thou hast lost some of
thy roses. Does aught ail thee, child?"

Sudden tears welled up in Cherry's eyes; her lip began to tremble.

"I know not, I know not," she answered, with a little sob. "It only
seems sometimes as though I could not bear the life any longer; it
is all so drear, so dull, so dead! one day like another--always the
same. Sometimes I think the narrow house will stifle me! O father,
chide me not; I have struggled against the feeling, but the life is
killing me! I kn