“This is a surprising story,” said I, when the good dame had concluded, “what do people suppose became of Lee?” “There’s no telling,” answered Mrs. Dawkins, “some say one thing and some another. Whether he left the country—or whether he made away with himself, there’s nobody knows—for my own part I think he was harassed out of his life by the odd temper of his good woman—but there’s no knowing—well, this here boy, that you’ve been asking about is her son. She has but two children left—Nancy, who is about seventeen, and ‘Our Bill.’ My husband took the boy, to keep him out of evil courses, and if he behaves himself, Mr. Dawkins will do well by him.” “That is certainly very kind of your husband, and I hope the lad will reward him by industry and good conduct.” “I hope so, too,” replied my hostess, “but Bill is rather too much inclined to mischief—yet he is a good boy, too, in many respects, and is very fond of his mother, whom he goes to see regularly.” “What are her means of support?” I asked. “Well—she has to work hard enough since the loss of her husband; and many a time I have seen her standing in the doorway, looking over at the little shop in which he used to sit at work, with her eyes brimful of tears. Ah, I guess it goes to her heart to think how roughly she used to speak to poor James. She takes in spinning and plain work, and sometimes goes out a nursing; and her daughter does a little at millinery, for she has a pretty taste about such matters; and so they make out a living.” “Is the daughter industrious?” I asked. “As industrious a girl as you would wish to see, and as handsome. She has a lover too; indeed a couple of them; but there her mother and she are at odds; for the one that Nancy likes is not favored by Mrs. Lee.” “That is unfortunate; and what kind of a person is the young man preferred by Nancy?” “Why, he is a likely lad—the blacksmith of our village. He has not much before hand to be sure, but is honest, good, and true.” “And the other?” “Oh, he is better off—quite rich. Keeps a store in the village, and makes a great dash. But for my own part I think Nancy’s choice is the best; for Josiah Goodwin is steady as a clock, while folks do say, that young Sturges, the shop-keeper, likes a small spree now and then.” “If that is the case,” said I, “it is to be hoped that Nancy will remain firm in her determination to have nothing to do with him.” “She has a sad time of it at any rate,” replied my informant. “Her mother keeps her close at home, and has ordered her never to see or speak to young Goodwin; who is so troubled about it, that he has closed his shop and left the village.” “Really,” said I, “I am sorry for this poor girl, and I should like to pay a visit to Mrs. Lee.” “That you may do this evening, if you please,” said Mrs. Dawkins, “my daughter is going to her house to carry some work.”