Then the children went to school, and Mrs. Lethbridge was busy for a while, washing and dressing the baby. When her husband at last awoke, it was ten o'clock. He got up immediately, and putting his hand into the deep outer pocket of his coat, drew out a fine rabbit. "There, Jenny," he said, "that'll make us a good dinner to-day!" But instead of looking pleased, the poor wife's face clouded over, and she exclaimed, "Oh, James, you've been poaching again!" "And what if I have? I set the wire as I went up to the Hall last evening, and this morning there was our dinner caught for us. Come, Jenny, don't look so black. Where's the harm?" "There is harm," she said, vehemently, "and you must know it, James. You took good care not to show the rabbit when the children were here, because you thought they might wonder how you got it! It's stealing, for the rabbit don't belong to us; and if you were found out, you'd be sent to prison, and then what would become of your family?" "I'll take care not to be found out. I don't call trapping a rabbit stealing, if you do. The farmers complain dreadfully that the rabbits are a perfect plague, and eat up all their crops." "Mr. Talbot would discharge you if he knew!" "I daresay he would; but he won't know." "He may get to hear. I really believe people are suspicious about you, James." "I'll promise you to be careful." "I wish you'd promise me never to poach a rabbit, or anything else, again!" "Not likely. What an aggravating woman you are, Jenny!" "James, it's not honest. I never thought when I married you, you'd come to this." But James Lethbridge only laughed. He was in too good spirits to be easily made angry, and would not take his wife's remarks seriously. Mrs. Lethbridge cooked the rabbit for dinner, but she felt very unhappy; and after the mid-day meal was over, and she was washing up the plates, a few hot tears coursed down her cheeks. Molly, who was playing with the baby, noticed her mother's sorrow, and ran to her side. "Mother!" she cried. "What is it?" "Nothing I can tell you, my dear." Molly was sadly distressed. She stood looking up into her mother's face with wistful, blue eyes. Her father and brothers had gone out, so, but for the baby, Mrs. Lethbridge and her little girl were alone. "Don't you worry, my Molly. When you are older you shall know everything that troubles me. You'll be my right-hand. I know you will." "But, mother, why do you cry? Does your head ache?" "No, my dear; it's my heart." "Poor mother! Won't Jesus take the pain away?" "I don't know; perhaps He will some day." "We'll ask Him now! Miss Morris says we must tell Him everything!" "Well, you ask Him, Molly." So the child knelt down on the kitchen floor, and covering her face with her hands, prayed earnestly— "Please, dear Jesus, take mother's pain away, and not make her heart ache any more."