revious to her
death, my mother had considered that we could make no better return for
the debt of gratitude we owed her than by making provision for her old
age. I say, with good reason, that we owed her a debt of gratitude, for,
during her residence with us, she had shown the utmost kindness to both
my mother and myself. And when my mother's health failed her, the care
and attentions of Aunt Patience were unceasing. With a view of making
provision for Aunt Patience, my mother had made arrangements that our
house should be sold, and the money deposited for her future benefit. In
making this arrangement, my mother wished me to accept of a portion of
the money which the sale of the house would bring; but I declined,
saying that, as she had given me a good education, I was amply able to
support myself, so long as I was blessed with health. My mother assented
to the arrangement, saying that I could draw money from the deposit
should I ever have occasion so to do.

We remained for two months in our lonely home, after the death of my
mother; at the end of which time the new owner took possession of the
dwelling. Aunt Patience had decided upon going to reside with a relative
who lived in Massachusetts, and the interest of the money, deposited for
her use, was to be regularly remitted to her. We disposed of the
furniture, with the exception of a few cherished articles, which I
reserved for myself; these the purchaser kindly allowed me to leave in
one of the upper rooms till I might wish to remove them. The same day
that Aunt Patience set out on her journey to Massachusetts, I returned
to Mrs. Leighton.

CHAPTER IX.

FRIENDLY ATTENTIONS.

It was well for me that my mind was actively employed; had it been
otherwise I should have continually brooded over my sorrows. As it was,
when engaged with my duties in the school-room, my thoughts would wander
to those two graves in the church-yard, and my tears would fall upon the
book from which I was listening to a recitation from my pupils.
Georgania having left home, I had only Birdie and Lewis as pupils. Much
pity did those affectionate children evince for me when they could not
but observe my grief. Birdie would often say,--

"Please, Miss Roscom, do not grieve so much; we all love you dearly, and
will be very kind to you."

And Lewis, who could never bear to see my tears, would say,--

"I will be a little brother to you, Miss Roscom, so please don't cry any
more."