here with us, that up there, where he and missis have
gone, there is no crying and no sorrow. So you see, Master Owen, you
should not take on so. They had their trials on earth, that I am sure
they had, for I seed it often before you was born; but when you came you
was a blessing to them. Now they are happy, that is the comfort I
have."

"I am not crying for them, Susan," said Owen, trying to stifle his
tears, "I am crying for myself; I cannot help it. I know you love me,
and you always have ever since I could remember--if you punished me it
was kindly done--and now you are going away, and I do not know when I
shall see you again. Mr Rowe is very kind and good, and so are Mrs
Rowe, and John, and David, and their sisters, but, Jane, it is from
pity, for they cannot care much about me, and I feel all alone in the
world."

"Well, I will give up the place, Master Owen, and work for you; I cannot
tell how I should ever have had the heart to think of going away and
leaving you among strangers, although I have known Farmer Rowe and his
family all my born days, and good people they are as ever breathed."

Owen took her hand and put his head on her lap, just as he used to do
when he was a little child, and thus he remained without speaking. Jane
looked down on him with the affection of a mother, and tears dropped
slowly from her eyes.

"The Lord bless the boy," she murmured to herself, as she lifted her
face towards the blue sky, "and take care of him, and give him strength
against all the enemies he will have to meet--the world, the flesh, and
the devil." Her plain features--for Jane had little to boast of in
regard to good looks--were lighted up with an expression which gave her
a beauty many fairer faces do not possess.

Owen lay still for some time; Jane thought that he was sleeping, and was
unwilling to arouse him. At length, looking up, he said--

"I never can repay you enough for all you have done for me. I should be
acting a cowardly part if I were to let you give up a good place for my
sake, and allow you to toil and slave for me, when I am ready enough to
work for my own support; you cannot tell how much I can do, and how much
I know. I do not say it for the sake of boasting, but my father assured
me that I knew enough to teach boys much older than myself. If I was
bigger, I could become an usher at a school, or perhaps Mr Orlando
Browne, David Howe's employer, would take me as a clerk. So you see,
J