" cried the widow. "I wonder you have any
patience at all with that little witch; she teases you constantly; I am
sure you must be amiability itself."

"She won't have the chance for some time to come, more's the pity,"
returned Tom, disconsolately.

"And why not, pray?" demanded Elsie.

"Because I've got to go to Pittsburg, and flounder about in coal mines,
and the Lord knows what."

"Have you business there?" asked Elizabeth.

"Yes, to be sure! Bless me, I was better off when I had no property. I
could do as I pleased then, and didn't have to go about breaking my neck
in pits, and bothering over all sorts of business that I understand no
more than the man in the moon--taking care of my interests as they call
it."

"Poor, unfortunate victim!" mocked Elsie.

"The penalty of riches," sighed Mrs. Harrington. "But think of the good
they bring to yourself and all about you, Mr. Fuller."

"Yes, I know," returned he; "I'm an ungrateful wretch; it's in my
nature; I need to have my head punched twenty times a day, there's no
doubt of that."

They all laughed at his energy; even Elizabeth tried to come out of her
anxious thoughts, and confine her wandering fancies to the conversation.

"When are you going, Tom?" she asked.

"Oh, to-morrow."

"He speaks as if it were the Day of Judgment," said Elsie.

"And I may be gone a whole week or more," pursued he.

"A small eternity," cried Elsie. "Dear me, dear me, how we all pity
you."

"I don't believe you care a straw," said Tom, dismally; "you won't miss
me."

"He wants to be flattered," cried Elsie.

"I am sure you will be missed, dear Mr. Fuller," said the widow; "you
wrong your friends by a suspicion so cruel."

"I hope so, I'm sure," returned Tom, glancing at Elsie; but she was in
one of her mischievous moods, and would not give him a gleam of
consolation.

"Don't spoil him, Mary Harrington," said she; "the creature's vanity is
becoming inordinate; isn't it, Bessie?"

"You can ill-treat him sufficiently without my assistance," said Mrs.
Mellen, smiling; "I shall not help you, certainly."

"That is right, Bess," cried Tom; "stand by a fellow a little; she
hasn't a spark of pity."

"Take care, sir!" said Elsie, lifting her embroidery scissors. "Don't
try to win my natural allies over to your side by underhand
persuasions."

"I am sure you don't need allies or assistance of any sort to be more
than a match for a dozen men," said Tom.

"Another of my