"The poor man will soon be here, Faith," continued she, "and I wanted to ask what thee thinks should be done with him. Thee knows there is no room that can have a fire in it, except the one where Polly and Susan sleep, and they are both too sick to be moved into the cold"-- "He shall have my room, mother," said Faith, quietly. "Thy room, child?" "Yes, mother; and I will sleep here on the couch. I should like it very much indeed; for you know I never have been able to be quite the orderly and regular girl you have tried to make me." "Thee is a good girl," said the mother, quietly. "Not half so good a girl as I ought to be, with so good a mother," replied Faith, throwing her arms about her mother's neck and kissing her fondly. The elder woman returned the caress with an involuntary warmth, which, pure and natural though it might be, was yet at variance with the strict rule of her sect, which had taught her to avoid everything like compliment or caress, as savoring of the manners of the "world's people." She therefore, after one kiss, gently repelled the girl, saying,-- "Nay, Faith, but it sufficeth. Go, then, if thee will, and make ready thy chamber for this sick man, while I prepare him some broth." An hour later, a pung or box-sleigh drew up at the poor-house door, from which was lifted a long, gaunt figure, carefully enveloped in blankets and cloaks. As he was taken from the sleigh, he feebly murmured a few words, to which Phineas Coffin replied kindly,-- "Don't be scart,--it's all safe, and Nathaniel will fetch it right in after us." "What! this 'ere?" queried the youth called Nathaniel, while he lifted from the sleigh, somewhat contemptuously, a long flat something, carefully enveloped in a cotton case. "Yes. Fetch it along this way," replied Phineas; and Nathaniel followed the chair, in which the sick man was carried, into the pretty little maiden chamber which Faith had so quietly relinquished to one who she thought needed it more than herself. Mother and daughter stood ready to receive their new charge, and see him comfortable in the warm, soft bed which they had prepared for him. "Thee will soon get rested now, friend, and go to sleep,--won't thee?" said Mrs. Coffin, in her gentle voice, as she turned down the sheet a little more evenly. "Where is it?" panted the exhausted sufferer, trying to look beyond his kind nurse into the room. "What does thee mean, friend?" "It is this thing, mother," said Faith, bringing it forward, and leaning it against the wall at the foot of the bed. "He brought it with him," continued she, in a low voice; "and father says, he didn't seem to care half so much about his own comfort as to have _that_ safe." "It is my--property,--all I have--left. I won't be--parted from it. You--sha'n't take it--away," gasped the sick man, in an excited tone.