ock. He opened the window, and a thin snowdrift came slanting
in, borne on a cutting north wind; he closed it hastily, and shuddered
as he thought of the long and lonely march before him. All was silent
in the house as he dressed himself and prepared for the road. With
noiseless step he drew near his father's door and listened; everything
was still. He could not bring himself to disturb him, so he passed on
to the room where his sisters slept. The door lay ajar, and a candle was
burning on the table. Frank entered on tiptoe and drew near the bed, but
it was empty and had not been lain in. As he turned round he beheld Kate
asleep in a chair, dressed as he had last seen her. She had never lain
down, and the prayer-book, which had dropped from her hand, told how her
last waking moments were passed.

He kissed her twice, but even the hot tears that fell from his eyes upon
her cheek did not break her slumber. He looked about him for some token
to leave, that might tell he had been there, but there was nothing, and,
with a low sigh, he stole from the room.

As he passed out into the kitchen, Ellen was there. She had already
prepared his breakfast, and was spreading the table when he entered.

"How good of you how kind, Ellen," said he, as he passed his arm around
her neck.

"Hush, Frank, they are both sleeping. Poor papa never closed his eyes
till half an hour ago, and Kate was fairly overcome ere she yielded."

"You will say that I kissed them, Nelly, kissed them twice," said he,
in a low, broken voice, "and that I could n't bear to awake them.
Leave-taking is so sorrowful. Oh, Ellen, if I knew that you were all
happy, that there were no hardships before you, when I 'm away!"

"And why should we not, Frank?" said she, firmly. "There is no dishonor
in this poverty, so long as there are no straits to make it seem other
than it is. Let us rather pray for the spirit that may befit any lot we
are thrown in, than for a fortune to which we might be unsuited."

"Would you forget who we are, Ellen?" said he, half reproachfully.

"I would remember it, Frank, in a temper less of pride than humility."

"I do not see much of the family spirit in all this," rejoined he,
almost angrily.

"The family spirit," echoed she, feelingly. "What has it ever done for
us, save injury? Has it suggested a high=bearing courage against the
ills of narrow fortune? Has it told us how to bear poverty with dignity,
or taught us one single lesson of