"You forget, Gar, that--that----" here she almost broke down, and had to pause a minute--"that our income there was earned by papa. He would not be there to earn it now. No, my dear ones; I have thought the future over in every way--thought until my brain has become confused--and the only possible chance that I can see, of our surmounting difficulties, so as to enable us to exist, is by endeavouring to keep this home. Patience suggests that I should let part of it. I had already thought of that; and I shall endeavour to do so. It may cover the rent and taxes. And I must try and do something else that will find us food." The children looked perfectly thunderstruck, especially the two elder ones, William and Jane. "Do something to find food!" they uttered, aghast. "Mamma, what do you mean?" It is so difficult to make children understand these unhappy things--those who have been brought up in comfort. Jane sighed, and explained further. Little desolate hearts they were who listened to her. "William," she resumed, "your poor papa's watch was to have been yours; but--I scarcely like to tell you--I fear I shall be obliged to dispose of it to help our necessities." A spasm shot across William's face. But, brave-hearted boy that he was, he would not let his mother see his disappointment, and looked cheerfully at her. "There is one thought that weighs more heavily on my mind than all--your education. How I shall manage to continue it I do not know. My darlings, I look upon this only in a degree less essential to you than food: you know that learning is better than house and land. I do not yet see my way clear in any way: it is very dark--almost as dark as it can be; and but for one Friend, I should despair." "What friend is that, mamma? Do you mean Patience?" "I mean God," replied Jane. "I know that He is a sure refuge to those who trust in Him. In my saddest moments, when I think how certain that refuge is, a ray of light flashes over me, bright as that glorious light in your papa's dream. Oh, my dear children! Perhaps we shall be helped to struggle on!" "Who will buy us new clothes?" cried Frank, dropping upon another phase of the difficulty. Jane sighed: it was all terribly indistinct. "In all the tribulation that will probably come upon us, the humiliations, the necessities, we must strive for patience to bear them. You do not yet understand the meaning of the term, _to bear_; but you will learn it all too soon. You must bear not only for your own sakes, because it is your lot, and you cannot go from it; not only for mine, but chiefly because it is the will of God. This affliction could not have come upon us unless God had permitted it, and I am quite sure, therefore, that it is in some way sent for our good. We shall not be utterly miserable if we can keep together in our house. You will aid me in it, will you not?" "In what way, mamma?" they eagerly asked, as if wishing to begin something then. "What can we do?"