"And I am sure we gave her five new dresses and ever so many underclothes, and John sent her all her things that she left here when she went away," sobbed Mrs. Bowers. "I think it is a shame that I should be talked to so." "I shall say no more to you, Maria, nor to you, John," said Aunt Hannah, recovering her calmness. "Rhoda is henceforth my charge. I shall go to the city to-morrow and bring her home with me. Though I am not rich and never shall be, my precious child shall not be left to strangers while I have a loaf or a dollar to divide." "And then everybody will know the whole story, and there will be no end of a fuss and a scandal," said Mrs. Bowers. "There will be that at any rate," answered Aunt Hannah. "Do you think you can do such a thing and not have everybody know it? I heard the story before I had been off the cars ten minutes, but I would not believe it till I had the child's own letter." "What do you think Uncle Jacob will say to you?" asked Mr. Bowers. "I neither know nor care. I am not accountable to Jacob, nor in any way dependent on him. I want nothing that he has to give. Ah, John, John, you have made the greatest mistake of your life." "Well, I don't know but I have, Aunt Hannah," said Mr. Bowers. "Sometimes I have thought so. It was more Maria's doing than mine, any way. Only that I didn't know what she might say, I believe I should have given up at the last minute and brought Rhoda home with me." "Oh yes, 'It was all Maria!' It is always 'The woman whom thou gavest to be with me,'" said Aunt Hannah. "That excuse was one of the first fruits of the fall, and it will be one of the last." "Well, you know, Aunt Hannah, I really couldn't have the girl here unless Maria was willing," said Mr. Bowers, with some show of reason. "Rhoda was a good girl, and I was very fond of her; but, after all, our own had the first claim. But I do wish you would reconsider this matter before you bring the girl back to make a talk and a fuss. She is well enough off where she is, and she is sure to make friends." "She has made one Friend who I am afraid is not yours, John—even the Friend that sticketh closer than a brother, and who has said,— "'Leave thy fatherless children, I will preserve them alive.' "Oh, why didn't you tell me what you meant to do? Then the poor child might have been spared some part of this distress which has almost cost her life." "Well, Uncle Jacob thought it would only make a fuss; and besides—Come, Aunt Hannah, do take a second thought before you send for Rhoda. Second thoughts are always best, you know."