"If accepted as coming from God," she murmured, "and therefore good, nothing is unbearable, Mr. Gilpin says, and he is right; perhaps we may succeed in this business after all, though I feel quite hopeless, after what Mr. Winter has said--but if we have no money, could I not earn it? I have a good knowledge of music--ah, delightful! how proud I should be, to earn it for grandpapa, who has always taken such care of me; and nurse would not mind it much. I like teaching. Ah! we may be happy yet--I must speak to Mr. Winter about it. Ah! nurse's dream may come true, but by contraries, after all; who can tell what strength love, and God's good help may lend even to these weak arms," and she stretched them out. "Enough to support dear grandpapa, perhaps--that would be a proud achievement!" she said almost aloud, as a feeling of quiet courage swelled her heart. She proceeded to bathe her eyes and make her simple toilette, interrupted, it is true, by a delicious vision that would intrude itself, of Fred Egerton wealthy and powerful, flying to save her and hers, and interposing the shield of his affectionate care between them and every earthly ill; in vain she chided herself for so far-fetched a thought; instinctively she felt how readily and rapturously he would perform such a part; and however impressively she told herself she was absurd and visionary the idea would return. It was the nearest approach to love that had ever connected itself with him in her mind, and his image, once invested with this hue, never again lost it. There has been so much said, and said with eloquence, pathos and truth, of the heroism of every day life, that I fear to approach ground already so well occupied; yet I cannot pass, in silence, the resolution with which Kate calmed herself to meet her grandfather at dinner; and, her attention now fully roused, preserved that composure even while observing a thousand minute indications of despondency, which cut her to the heart. "Shall I speak to him of business to-night?" she asked herself more than once; anxious to begin that line of conduct which Winter had pointed out to be her duty; and, each time as she looked at the worn expression of that beloved and venerated face, her heart answered, "No, not to-night, let him have a good night's rest, and to-morrow, to-morrow, I will unflinchingly approach the subject." So she brought him his footstool and moved his chair to the right angle with the fire. "Are you quite well darling?" said he, gazing up at her as she arranged a cushion at his back, "I thought you looked pale at dinner."