he said I mustn't tell a word of it: and when I said I should tell you, he said he'd got into a fix, and gave me a little push, and said, 'Well, well, be off with you, child.' And he is a naughty, ugly man.”

"Tom," said his mother, "you are only a little boy, and you make mistakes sometimes, you know. You mustn't call your uncle a naughty man, and get so angry and excited. You spoke very rudely to mother just now. I am sure you did not understand your uncle; and now mind, you are not to repeat a word of this to any one."

"Can't I tell Lucy?"

"No, not Lucy, nor any body. And sit down here till you are a good boy."

"I'm a good boy now. I've been good ever so long. Lucy says so. And I don't like that man."

"What has got into you all?" said poor Mrs. Grant, half bewildered. "I hardly know which way to turn. Tom, I didn't expect this of you. You have been such a dear, good child, lately."

"I'm sorry I've troubled you, mother. I'll try to be good," said Tom, throwing his arms around her neck, but instantly relapsing into his defiant mood, as he saw his uncle approaching.

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"I have made an awkward business of it," said Mr. Whittier, "but I had a good end in view, and I

hope you understand that I did not pry into your affairs out of idle curiosity. I only wanted to find out in what way I could be of most use to you. And I know you never would tell me yourself, you're so proud," he added, smiling. "But now about that debt; let us talk the matter over, and have it settled; of course you see the impropriety of my letting things go as they are now."

"What do you propose? I don't quite understand," said Mrs. Grant. "Do you want it paid directly ?"

"What are you thinking of?" cried he. "I am only asking of you, who know Grant so much better than I do, how it will answer to relinquish my claim. Would it offend him, do you think?"

"I don't know; I shouldn't use the word 'offend,' exactly. But he might feel hurt, just at this time. He might fancy-" she hesitated, not daring to finish her sentence.

"Might fancy I hoped to wipe off old scores with mere money, I suppose you mean. Don't be afraid to say it; I had thought of that myself." He sat silent for a time; then said,

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Sarah, you are my own sister; we are children of one mother; you, at least, ought not to be unwilling that I should help you bear your burdens. I don' want to do any thing that would revolutionize your

family. I only want to make life easier for you, and for your children, in little ways, neither you nor they will notice much. I am ashamed and bitterly regret that I have not been doing it all these years. How many children did you say there were? Ten? Well, I have something to tell you which will interest you, I am sure. A short time before my father's death, my eldest child was born. A fine little fellow he was! And we called him Arthur. He lived to be four years old, and was the perfect idol of his grandfather, who could never bear him out of his sight. He said one day that he had laid aside a small sum of money for your first-born, expecting it to be a boy and his own namesake; but after waiting several years, and finding your children were all girls, he made it over to my little Arthur. I was poor then-I know what poverty means-and was not-sorry to know that means were thus provided for his future education. But God had something better in store for my child, and took him from me almost without warning. It was a heavy blow, but it did not bring me to myself. I was immersed in business, and struggling along from day to day, and had hardly time to think or feel. Poverty spoiled and soured me, and I grew hard and cold under its petty discipline. Well! that money of my little

child has been lying ever since in the Savings' Bank

where it was first placed. touch, or even think of it.

I never could bear to

Now let our father's

original wish be gratified in its disposal. You can see for yourself that it properly belongs to your son, who bears his name."

Mrs. Grant could with difficulty control herself during this recital. It seemed to her that the hand of God was in the matter, and that He had Arthur's interests even more at heart than she had herself. She went into her room, and thanked Him on her knees; how fervently, only a mother can understand.

CHAPTER VIII.

NEW SCENES AND NEW FRIENDS.

Ir was decided, at last, that Lucy should return home with her uncle. He would listen to not one of the many objections urged against it by Lucy herself, who dared not, after all, confide to him her chief ground of hesitation. This was a dread of proving an unwelcome guest to her unknown aunt. She shrank from the bare thought of thus thrusting herself, as she termed it, into a family where all were comparative strangers. But, on the other hand, she was tempted to yield to the solicitations of her parents, whose anxiety in regard to her health made them blind to other considerations.

"Never mind about her wardrobe," said her uncle; "every thing she needs can be easily provided in New-York."

There was time, however, during his week's absence, to make some necessary additions to this very simple, very scanty stock; and every body's