Mary Erskine was very much interested in this plan.  She would like to live in a handsome house as well as any other lady, only she preferred to wait until she could have one of her own.  Now that that time had arrived, she was greatly pleased with the prospect of having her kitchen, her sitting-room, and her bed-room, in three separate rooms, instead of having them, as heretofore, all in one.  Then the barns and barn-yards, and the pens and sheds for the sheep and cattle, were all going to be much more convenient than they had been; so that Albert could take care of a greater amount of stock than before, with the same labor.  The new house, too, was going to be built in a much more pleasant situation than the old one, and the road from it to the corner was to be improved, so that they could go in and out with a wagon.  In a word, Mary Erskine’s heart was filled with new hopes and anticipations, as she saw before her means and sources of happiness, higher and more extended than she had ever before enjoyed.

When the time approached for moving into the new house Mary Erskine occupied herself, whenever she had any leisure time, in packing up such articles as were not in use.  One afternoon while she was engaged in this occupation, Albert came home from the field much earlier than usual.  Mary Erskine was very glad to see him, as she wished him to nail up the box in which she had been packing her cups and saucers.  She was at work on the stoop, very near the door, so that she could watch the children.  The baby was in the cradle.  The other child, whose name was Bella, was playing about the floor.

Albert stopped a moment to look at Mary Erskine’s packing, and then went in and took his seat upon the settle.

“Tell me when your box is ready,” said he, “and I will come and nail it for you.”

Bella walked along toward her father—­for she had just learned to walk—­and attempted to climb up into his lap.

“Run away, Bella,” said Albert.

Mary Erskine was surprised to hear Albert tell Bella to run away, for he was usually very glad to have his daughter come to him when he got home from his work.  She looked up to see what was the matter.  He was sitting upon the settle, and leaning his head upon his hand.

Mary Erskine left her work and went to him.

“Are you not well, Albert?” said she.

“My head aches a little.  It ached in the field, and that was the reason why I thought I would come home.  But it is better now.  Are you ready for me to come and nail the box?”

“No,” said Mary, “not quite; and besides, it is no matter about it to-night.  I will get you some tea.”

“No,” said Albert, “finish your packing first, and I will come and nail it.  Then we can put it out of the way.”