then she went about the house,
softly doing what was to be done. In a little while she brought in her
mother's cup of tea; and, as the light fell on her face, she said,
cheerfully, "Your sleep must have done you good, mother. You look
better."

"Something has done me good, I think, love," said her mother, kissing
the little girl's upturned face. "You are looking pale and weary. I
hope I shall soon be well now."

"I hope so, mother,--not that I am tired; but it will be good to see you
up again."

Still it grew more bitterly cold. The nails and the boards of the old
house cracked so often, and with such violence, that the children grew
terrified lest it should fall upon them.

As for Sophy, the thought that she ought to brave the bitter cold and
all those mountainous drifts, never left her for a moment. She had been
hoping all along that the expected food night come. But the fear of
actual want was now drawing nearer every moment; and soon, she knew, she
would have no choice but to go.

That night she divided into two parts the small quantity of meal that
remained. One part she put aside for the morning, and of the other she
made for her brothers' supper some thin gruel, instead of their usual
hearty porridge. The hungry little lads eyed with undisguised
discontent the not very savoury mess; but, fortunately, the table was
laid in the corner of the room most distant from their mother's bed, and
their murmurs were unheard by her.

"Now, boys, I have something to say to you," began Sophy, gravely.
"There is not much supper; but you must be content with it. We shall be
sure to have something more to-morrow. If the things don't come
to-night, I shall go myself to the village to-morrow, to see what has
become of them. At any rate, we must not fret mother about it. It will
be all right to-morrow, you may be sure."

She made quite merry over little Will's fears that the things might
never come, and that they all might starve, as sometimes children did in
books. She laughed at him, and made him laugh at himself. But, though
Sophy spoke hopefully to her brothers, she had her own troubled thoughts
to struggle with still. That was a long, long night to her, and to her
mother too. Though Mrs Morely did not know how nearly they were at the
end of their stores, she knew they could not last long; and the thought
would come back, What if there was nothing awaiting them in the village?
What if her husband had fal