"Now, Master Tom, will you listen to reason?" said Susan, turning towards the boy in a cheerful, good-humoured manner. "Suppose that you had to decide whether your mamma should come and give you a good-bye kiss, at the risk of carrying back illness to your own little brother, would you ask her—would you wish her to come to you at such risk?" "She did not want to come—she did not choose to come!" muttered Tom, who was not inclined to listen to reason. "She never thought about us at all," cried Jessy. "Nay, Miss Jessy, I can answer for it that mistress has been thinking a great deal about both of you," said the young maid. "She has been giving me such particular directions about your comfort, and the tears were in her eyes when she spoke of going to London and leaving you behind." "Were they?" asked Tom, in a softened tone. He raised himself to a sitting posture on the floor, and looked up at Susan through the rough tumbled hair which was hanging over his eyes. Some people have an art of putting things in the brightest, fairest light, of smoothing down angry tempers, and raising kindly feelings in the hearts of others. Susan was one who had learned this art in the school of the Gospel. She shewed so clearly that it was no unkindness that had taken the young stepmother away, she made the children realise so vividly what sad consequences would be likely to follow should their baby brother take the infection of scarlet fever, that all the storm of anger was lulled. When Susan gave to Jessy and her brother the two bright crown pieces sent to them by Mrs. Fairley, even the words "How kind!" came from the lips of the girl. Susan had, however, a great deal of trouble in coaxing Tom to obey the doctor's orders by returning to his crib. She had no authority to punish, and it was very hard to persuade. Susan promised the boy to sit beside him, and read to him, so that the time should not seem dull. "I'm tired of every one of my books, they're so stupid," cried Tom. "I've read Blue Beard ever so often, and I don't care for any of the rest." "I've a little book of my own, which will be quite new to you, I daresay," said Susan. "It is in my box; I will go for it directly. And I wonder," she added, playfully, "whether, when I come back, I shall find Master Tommy in bed." As soon as the door was closed behind Susan, Tom scrambled back into his crib in just as much haste as he had left it, and pulled the bed-clothes almost over his rough little head, "to give Susan a surprise," as he said. Tom was, perhaps, a little tired and weak, for though the attack of scarlatina had been but slight, the fever had not quite left him.