round-eyed sister moved with laborious gentleness at Margaret's “hush!" Presently the spasm that fore-shadowed death had passed away, and Bessy roused herself and said,—
"I'll go to bed,—it's best place; but," catching at Margaret's gown, "yo'll come again,—I know yo' will—but just say it!"
"I will come to-morrow," said Margaret. Bessy leant back against her father, who prepared to carry her upstairs; but as Margaret rose to go, he struggled to say something: “I could wish there were a God, if it were only to ask Him to bless thee."
Margaret went away very sad and thoughtful.
She was late for tea at home. At Helstone unpunctuality at meal-times was a great fault in her mother's eyes; but now this, as well as many other little irregularities, seemed to have lost their power of irritation, and Margaret almost longed for the old complainings.
Have you met with a servant, dear?"
"No, mamma; that Anne Buckley would never have done."
"Suppose I try," said Mr. Hale. "Everybody else has had their turn at this great difficulty. Now let me try. I may be the Cinderella to put on the slipper after all."
Margaret could hardly smile at this little joke, so oppressed was she by her visit to the Higginses.
"What would you do, papa? How would you set about it?"
"Why, I would apply to some good house-mother
