“Oh yes, of course I will.  How much do you give?”

“I give half a dollar a day.  Can you come for that?”

“If you will let me bring my little girl along.  I could not leave her alone.”

“I don’t know about that,” replied Mrs. Walker, musingly.  “I have so many children of my own about the house.”

“She will not be at all troublesome, ma’am,” the poor woman urged.

“Will she be willing to stay in the kitchen?”

“Oh yes, I will keep her there.”

“Well, Mrs. Lee, I suppose I might as well engage you.  But there is one thing that I wish understood.  The person that I hire to help do the washing must scrub up the kitchen after the clothes are all out.  Are you willing to do that?”

“Oh yes, ma’am.  I will do it,” said Mrs. Lee, while her heart sank within her at the idea of performing tasks for which her feeble health and strength seemed altogether insufficient.  But she felt that she must put her hands to the work, if she died in the effort to perform it.

Three days afterwards, she entered, as was agreed upon, at half a dollar a day, the kitchen of Mrs. Walker, who had but a few years before been one of her friends and companions.

It is remarkable, how persons of the most delicate constitutions will sometimes bear up under the severest toil, and encounter the most trying privations, and yet not fail, but really appear to gain some degree of strength under the ordeal that it seemed, to all human calculation, must destroy them.

So it was with Mrs. Lee.  Although she suffered much from debility and weariness, occasioned by excessive toil for one all unaccustomed to hard labour, yet she did not, as she feared, sink rapidly under it.  By taking in as much washing and ironing as she could do, and going out two days in the week regularly, she managed to procure for herself and child the bare necessaries of life.  This she had continued for about two years at the time when first introduced to the reader’s attention, as returning with her child to her comfortless home.

The slight movement near her door, which Mrs. Lee had thought to be only an imaginary sound, was a reality.  While little Jane spoke of her father, and wondered at his absence, a man, comfortably clad in coarse garments, stood near the door in a listening attitude.  Once or twice he laid his hand upon the latch, but each time withdrew it and stood musing in seeming doubt.  “Oh, I wish father would come home!” fell upon his ear, in clear, distinct, earnest tones.

He did not hear the low reply, though he listened eagerly.  Only for a moment longer did he pause.  Then swinging the door open, and stepping in quickly, he said in an earnest voice, “And I have come home at last, my child!—­at last, my dear Alice! if you will let me speak to you thus tenderly—­never, never again to leave you!”

Poor Mrs. Lee started and turned pale as her husband entered thus abruptly, and all unexpected.  But she saw a change in him that was not to be mistaken; and all her former love returned with overwhelming tenderness.  Still she restrained herself with a strong effort, and said—­