“About six months, I think. No, she is not strong, but the life can scarcely be harder than her present one. Since her husband left, she has been going out washing or house-cleaning whenever she can get a job. You know that they are living in our old house, and my father actually shook his fist at her last rent-day.” “She was ready, then?” “Ready with every cent; but he told her to keep it towards an outfit and travelling expenses. I don’t know what they live on, I’m sure; for they never get regular meals at ‘Prices’ now; only bread and sometimes a dish of potatoes. Dora, the eldest girl, who was named after my mother, keeps house and takes care of the little ones. Tina is so proud she won’t take help, except that she lets me pay for the baby’s milk. They have named her Louise, after me,” said Louis proudly. “Yes, I heard you were to be godfather,” replied Mr. Clare, smiling cheerfully as the subject of this conversation approached. “Good-evening, Frau Christina; when am I to have the pleasure of christening that young lady of yours? or is your father to do it?” “Ah! I haven’t heart or time to think of christenings, Mr. Clare,” replied Tina in a low, weary voice; “it’s all a mistake for poor folks to have children, and they might as well die unchristened as not.” “But they aren’t going to die, I hope,” said the clergyman cheerfully; “Louis says you are all going West to grow up with the country. Come, I won’t keep you standing when you are tired out with your day’s work; but you’ll let me give a little treat to the children, I’m sure,” as he pressed something into her hand. “It’s very good of you, Mr. Clare, but we ain’t beggars,” said Tina proudly, even while her hand closed involuntarily over the gift. “We are all beggars in the sight of God,” said Mr. Clare, “and you know Who took little children into His arms and blessed them. I am quite sure He would like _yours_ to have a treat. Good-night; God bless you.” “Stop a bit, Mr. Clare; I want to tell Louis where I’ve been working to-day. Do you know, Louis, that Pinkie Randolph has come home?” “I knew she was expected, but not quite so soon,” said Louis steadily, though his cheek glowed. “Well, she’s home, and I’ve got the job of cleaning house for her. Much she knows about it! though she wouldn’t have it done till she was at home to ‘superintend,’ as she called it. I will say, though, that she’s a kind-hearted girl; told me this morning I looked tired, and gave the cook orders to make me a cup of tea for my dinner. She’s at Dr. Richards’s now, I guess.” “I’m glad she thought of you,” said Louis gently. “I ain’t got much cause to complain,” said Tina resignedly. She had not thanked Mr. Clare, but neither of them remembered it as she moved away with her slow, weary step, looking, with her careworn face and thin, bent form, twenty years older than her real age. “You don’t care to turn back, do you?” asked Mr. Clare as they walked on.