“Yes!” said he, “I’m glad to find you come into the idea of going to America.  It’s the only place for you.  The sooner you can go, and the better.”

“I can’t go without money,” said Edward, doggedly.  “If I had had money, I need not have come here.”

“Oh, Ned! would you have gone without seeing me?” said Mrs. Browne, bursting into tears.  “Mr. Buxton, I cannot let him go to America.  Look how ill he is.  He’ll die if you send him there.”

“Mother, don’t give way so,” said Edward, kindly, taking her hand.  “I’m not ill, at least not to signify.  Mr. Buxton is right:  America is the only place for me.  To tell the truth, even if Mr. Buxton is good enough” (he said this as if unwilling to express any word of thankfulness) “not to prosecute me, there are others who may—­and will.  I’m safer out of the country.  Give me money enough to get to Liverpool and pay my passage, and I’ll be off this minute.”

“You shall not,” said Mrs. Browne, holding him tightly.  “You told me this morning you were led into temptation, and went wrong because you had no comfortable home, nor any one to care for you, and make you happy.  It will be worse in America.  You’ll get wrong again, and be away from all who can help you.  Or you’ll die all by yourself, in some backwood or other.  Maggie! you might speak and help me—­how can you stand so still, and let him go to America without a word!”

Maggie looked up bright and steadfast, as if she saw something beyond the material present.  Here was the opportunity for self-sacrifice of which Mrs. Buxton had spoken to her in her childish days—­the time which comes to all, but comes unheeded and unseen to those whose eyes are not trained to watching.

“Mother! could you do without me for a time?  If you could, and it would make you easier, and help Edward to”—­The word on her lips died away; for it seemed to imply a reproach on one who stood in his shame among them all.

“You would go!” said Mrs. Browne, catching at the unfinished sentence.  “Oh!  Maggie, that’s the best thing you’ve ever said or done since you were born.  Edward, would not you like to have Maggie with you?”

“Yes,” said he, “well enough.  It would be far better for me than going all alone; though I dare say I could make my way pretty well after a time.  If she went, she might stay till I felt settled, and had made some friends, and then she could come back.”

Mr. Buxton was astonished at first by this proposal of Maggie’s.  He could not all at once understand the difference between what she now offered to do, and what he had urged upon her only this very morning.  But as he thought about it, he perceived that what was her own she was willing to sacrifice; but that Frank’s heart, once given into her faithful keeping, she was answerable for it to him and to God.  This light came down upon him slowly; but when he understood, he admired with almost a wondering admiration.  That little timid girl brave enough to cross the ocean and go to a foreign land, if she could only help to save her brother!