going on so gayly and blindly, while the storm was gathering, and the
poor man was left to meet it all alone. Now, however, the thunder-clap
had come, and after the first alarm, finding they were not killed, they
began to discover a certain half-anxious, half-pleasant excitement
in talking it over, encouraging one another, and feeling unusually
friendly, as people do when a sudden shower drives two or three to the
shelter of one umbrella.

It was a sober talk, but not all sad, for Mr. Shaw felt inexpressibly
comforted by his children's unexpected sympathy, and they, trying to
take the downfall cheerfully for his sake, found it easier to bear
themselves. They even laughed occasionally, for the girls, in their
ignorance, asked queer questions; Tom made ludicrously unbusiness-like
propositions; and Maud gave them one hearty peal, that did a world of
good, by pensively remarking, when the plans for the future had been
explained to her, "I 'm so relieved; for when papa said we must give up
everything, and mamma called us all beggars, I did think I 'd got to go
round asking for cold vittles, with a big basket, and an old shawl over
my head. I said once I 'd like that, but I 'm afraid I should n't, for I
can't bear Indian cake and cold potatoes, that 's what the poor children
always seem to get, and I should hate to have Grace and the rest see me
scuffing round the back gates."

"My little girl shall never come to that, if I can help it," said Mr.
Shaw, holding her close, with a look that made Maud add, as she laid her
cheek against his own, "But I 'd do it, father, if you asked me to, for
I truly want to help."

"So do I!" cried Fanny, wondering at the same minute how it would seem
to wear turned silks, and clean her gloves.

Tom said nothing, but drew toward him a paper of figures which his
father had drawn up, and speedily reduced himself to the verge of
distraction by trying to understand them, in his ardent desire to prove
his willingness to put his shoulder to the wheel.

"We shall pull through, children, so don't borrow trouble, only be ready
for discomforts and annoyances. Put your pride in your pockets, and
remember poverty is n't disgraceful, but dishonesty is."

Polly had always loved kind Mr. Shaw, but now she respected him
heartily, and felt that she had not done him justice when she sometimes
thought that he only cared for making money.

"I should n't wonder if this was a good thing for the whole family,