“I can trust the person who rocks our cradle,” said Martha. “He is coming back to-morrow to be thanked.” “On Sabbath-day!” “It is charity to come to Harry,” said Martha. “Poor Harry, how every one likes him!” Their eyes were becoming wet again--it was a relief to hear a quiet knock at the parlour door. The visitor was the younger Miss Rodger--a large, soft, clumsy, good-humoured girl, with a pleasant comely face. She wore a broken-down faded gown, which had once been very gay, and a little woollen shawl, put on unevenly, over her plump shoulders, and her hair in its enclosure of curl-papers for the night; ends of thread were clinging to the fringes of the shawl, and the young lady was tugging it over her shoulders, conscious of deficiencies below; but the good-humoured offer to “take the wean,” or do anything that might be needed, covered the eccentricities of Miss Aggie’s general house dress and appearance. The precious child was not entrusted to her, but the hoyden’s visit enlivened the sisters, and immediately after, they finished their work, and Martha saw Rose and Agnes prepare for rest, and then took her own place noiselessly by her brother’s bedside. CHAPTER III. “How still and peaceful is the Sabbath morn!-- The pale mechanic now has room to breathe.” GRAHAM. EARLY on the following morning, Cuthbert Charteris, after a long walk from his uncle’s house, presented himself at Harry Muir’s door. The street was very still and Sabbath-like. Some young workmen, in suits of snowy moleskin, stood grouped about the corner of the Cowcaddens, enjoying the sunshine, and some few who were of the more respectable Church-going class, and could not spend the after-part of the day in such a manner, were returning from early walks. There were very few shadows, however, to break the quiet undisturbed sunshine of the usually crowded street. The blinds were all drawn down in Mrs. Rodger’s respectable house--all except one in the little parlour of the Muirs. The outer door stood ajar--it was generally so during the day--and as Cuthbert proceeded up the stairs, the grave doleful voice of some one reading aloud struck on his ear. This, and the closely-veiled windows, made him somewhat apprehensive--and he quickened his pace in solicitude for the sufferer.