of Amy had seen this relative only two or three times, as her home was in a distant state. But about the time of Mr. Redmond’s death, cousin Joan had been left a widow with a small income,—so small that it was hardly enough for her to live on. Returning to her native place, she had suggested to Mrs. Redmond that it might he a good plan for them to live together. “My board will be something to you, and I will have more of a home than I could in a boarding-house. Besides, I can look after Amy when you are busy, and I’m quite a good hand at needlework.”
The plan really had appealed to Mrs. Redmond, and, if everything had gone as they planned, cousin Joan, instead of being a burden, would have been a great help. But, first of all, through a bad investment, her income was reduced about half. “Of course, if you say so, Lucy, I ’ll go to the poorhouse,” she had said, with tears in her eyes; and of course Mrs. Redmond had said that she must not talk so foolishly.
“You are company for me, and you can do many little things for me. The loss of your money need n’t make the least difference, as far as I am concerned.”
But one trouble after another came to cousin Joan. First, her general health failed, and a good part of her little stipend went to pay doctors’ bills. Then her eyes became almost useless, and she could no longer sew. But it was not Mrs. Redmond who complained, nor even Amy, whose feet grew very tired sometimes, running up and down stairs at the sick woman’s behest.
