Somebody brought him to the door, and pushed him in and went away. I was almost sure it was Mr. Simmons, but I could not quite see in the dark, and he did not answer when I spoke. I had to help father along the passage, and into the parlour; for he staggered and stumbled, and could not walk steadily. It was dreadful to me to have to do this. Such a feeling of shrinking and loathing came up in my heart, that I was frightened at myself. For it was my father—the father whom I had once loved so much, and who had been so good to us all. O what a change! To put himself down lower than a brute! All this was in my mind, as he came along, clutching at me for support, with his blood-shot eyes telling their tale. And he was my own father. Such a great agony seemed to come up in my heart, that I felt as if I must rush away, and never see him again. But mother looked so frightened, standing apart, that I could not leave her. "Phœbe! why, Phœbe, he has been drinking," she said quite loud. I wanted to silence her, but she said it again, and father heard. He had sense enough to understand, and he spoke angrily, using bad words, with his thick utterance. It was no time for finding fault, but poor mother never was very wise in that way, and what was in her head came out at her lips. She burst into tears, and said, "Then it's all true, what Mrs. Raikes said; and he's been gambling too, I don't doubt. O Phœbe, Phœbe! what shall we do?" and she clung to me, as if for help; and I, poor helpless child that I was, with sobs half choking me, though I kept them down, did not know what to do. Father heard the words, and he asked fiercely what they meant. Mother would not listen to me, when I begged her not to speak. She repeated what Mrs. Raikes had said, and then she told him he made her miserable, and was breaking her heart with his ways. She almost screamed out the words between her sobs, and father shouted back at her in a rage, though he could scarcely speak so as to be understood. It was a sad and grievous scene. Many and many a time I have envied those children who are so happy as not to know what it is to feel shame at their parents' actions. I think I was praying in my heart, and a sort of calm seemed to come over me. I thought of what grannie would have done in my place. And I went to mother, and told her she must please not say another word, she must wait till next day. She left off then, and I told father he must go to bed. He stared at me, and then he went. I had to help him upstairs, and I thought we should never reach the top. He threw himself down all across the bed, with his clothes and boots on, and was asleep directly. Mother would not go near him She came to my room, and crept into the bed with me. Neither of us could sleep much. I was very unhappy and cried a great deal; and yet I had a sort of pleasure in the thought that mother seemed to cling to me for help, in a way she had never done before.