Her frugal meal was soon finished, and then the children were put to bed.  After laying away their clothes, and setting back the table from which their supper had been eaten, Mrs. Gaston seated herself by the already (sic) nearly nearly half burned penny candle, whose dim light scarcely enabled her failing eyesight to discern the edges of the dark cloth upon which she was working, and composed herself to her task.  Hour after hour she toiled on, weary and aching in every limb.  But she remitted not her labors until long after midnight, and then not until her last candle had burned away to the socket in which it rested.  Then she put aside her work with a sigh, as she reflected upon the slow progress she had made, and, disrobing herself, laid her over-wearied body beside that of her sick child.  Ella was asleep; but her breathing was hard, and her mother perceived, upon laying her hand upon her face, that her fever had greatly increased.  But she knew no means of alleviation, and therefore did not attempt any.  In a little while, nature claimed for her a respite.  Sleep locked her senses in forgetfulness.

CHAPTER III.

Death of Mrs. Gaston’s child.—­A mother’s anguish.

On the next morning, at the earliest dawn, Mrs. Gaston arose.  She found Ella’s fever still very high.  The child was restless, and moaned a good deal in her sleep.

“Poor little thing!” murmured the mother, as she bent over her for a moment, and then turned away, and commenced kindling a fire upon the hearth.  Fortunately, for her, she had saved enough from her earnings during the summer to buy half a cord of wood; but this was gradually melting away, and she was painfully conscious that, by the time the long and severe winter had fairly set in, her stock of fuel would be exhausted; and at the prices which she was receiving for her work, she felt that it would be impossible to buy more.  After making the fire, she took her work, and drew near the window, through which the cold faint rays of the morning were stealing.  By holding the work close to the light, she could see to set her needle, and in this way she commenced her daily toil.  An hour was spent in sewing, when Emma aroused up, and she had to lay by her work to attend to her child.  Ella, too, had awakened, and complained that her head ached badly, and that her throat was very sore.  Half an hour was spent in dressing, washing, and otherwise attending to her children, and then Mrs. Gaston went out to get something for breakfast.  On entering the shop of Mrs. Grubb, she met with rather a more courteous reception than had been given her on the morning previous.

“Ah! good-morning, Mrs. Gaston!  Good-morning!” said that personage, with a broad, good-natured smile.  “How is Ella?”

“She seems very poorly, Mrs. Grubb.  I begin to feel troubled about her.  She complains of a sore throat this morning, and you know the scarlet fever is all about now.”