as a daughter; Father of those who were even as dear; for their sakes, I would not part from you in unkindness. With these little coffins, I leave your house; and, like them, I leave it, never to return."
Mr. Dalton started at this address, and subdued his emotion by a strong effort, and, taking the aged woman's hand, kindly said: "While this house owns me for master, it is your home; and the home of none who do not treat you with kindness and with respect."
"I could not live here," exclaimed she, "the light and the music are put away together; the few days which may yet be allotted unto me, upon this weary earth, I shall spend with an old servant of your own, Mrs. Whyte: her dwelling looks upon the church where—" Eda's voice became inarticulate, and an unbroken silence of some minutes ensued. Mr. Dalton then said, "At least, I can make your old age comfortable; this pocket-book does not even contain your due—but"—The Indian flung the offered money from her,
