“Well,” says I, “Virginia, my mother is a hard-working woman, and a clever woman, and I dare say she would do very well, and, as she says she would have a better home for you, I think I shall let her have the money; but I won’t say so yet.  I must talk about it to Peter Anderson, and if he don’t say no, she shall have it with pleasure.”

“That will be very kind of you, Tom; and I hope mother will feel it, for you don’t owe her much.”

“Never mind that; after breakfast I’ll see Peter Anderson.  Don’t say a word about it till I come back.”

At breakfast-time my mother still appeared to be very thoughtful.  The fact was, that the idea of what advantage the money would be had taken possession of her mind; and perhaps she thought that there was no chance of obtaining it.  Perhaps she felt that, had she treated me better, she would have had it without difficulty—­it was impossible to say exactly.

After breakfast I walked with Virginia to her school, and then set off to Anderson, to whom I immediately imparted what had taken place.  His answer was decided: 

“I think, Jack, you can’t do better; but, at the same time, let us go to your father and hear his opinion.”

My father coincided with Anderson and me; and he added, “I tell you what, your mother is not parfect exactly—­though I say it, as shouldn’t say it—­but still she does work hard, and she will work hard; she has paid my little girl’s schooling out of her own arnings, and, moreover, she has found me one pot of porter at least every night, which has made me very comfortable.  Now, I’ve still a matter of forty pounds in the lieutenant’s hands.  I’ll add it to Tom’s hundred pounds, and then she will have a fair start.  What d’ye think, Peter?”

“I think you are both right; and, Tom, you are doing your duty.”

I knew what Anderson meant.  I thanked him for his advice, and my father and I went to my mother’s house.  I requested my father to stand spokesman, which he did, ending by telling my mother that my hundred pounds and his forty pounds were very much at her sarvice, and good luck to her.  Virginia’s eyes glistened as she took me by the hand.  My mother replied, “Very well, if we pleased, she would do her best for us all.”

The answer was hardly gracious, but I watched her countenance and saw she was moved.  Her thin lips quivered as she turned away and went upstairs, which she did immediately after her reply.  In about half-an-hour, during which I was laughing with Virginia, my mother came downstairs in her shawl and bonnet.

“Tom,” said she, in a kind manner, “will you walk with Virginia to school this afternoon, as I am going to have some conversation with Mr. Wilson?”

The alteration in her tone of voice to me was immediately perceived by Virginia.

“You are a dear good Tom,” said she, kissing me, as soon as my mother had left the house.

As soon as I had left Virginia at school, I went to call upon old Nanny, whom I found quite brisk and lively, sorting old keys and rusty hinges.