"We will get your mother safely into a hospital, or what is as good as a hospital, without tearing anyone to pieces. A room is all ready for her, and there you shall take care of her." "Oh, Mrs. Grey, it is impossible. We haven't nearly enough to justify our taking a room." "How would this plan suit you, then? Suppose your mother enters a hospital where I know she will be kindly treated, and I give you a home with me? You would be here exactly as if you were my own child, could be well educated, and surrounded by all the refinements of life. Look around you. This beautiful room, with its luxuries, would be yours; you would have books, pictures, everything you wanted." Margaret looked as she was bidden, and at one glance took in all the charms of the spot. Then rising scornfully to her feet, she burst into tears, jerking out the words in jets of indignation: "That I should live to be bribed to forsake my dying mother! Now I _am_ degraded!" Mrs. Grey's experiment was a success. For that it was only an experiment the sagacious reader has at once divined. "Ah! I knew I was not mistaken in you!" she cried; "I knew you would prove as true as steel!" She rose and caught both the hands of the excited girl in her own, then said in tones that elicited instant obedience: "Follow me." They entered now a large, airy room, which contained two dainty, white beds; an open wood-fire burned on the hearth, near which a cat sat, purring. "Here is your mother's hospital," said Mrs. Grey, "and you are matron, doctor, nurse, daughter, everything she can need. On these shelves," she added, opening a door, "are the hospital supplies; with this spirit-lamp you can make tea, warm liquids, and do a score of things. Here is a shade from the gas at night; this is a tray for food, when your patient takes to bed; this little nursery refrigerator will keep you supplied with ice day and night, and preserve milk and the like twelve hours and more. This candle will be of service when you have to move about at night, and these dressing-gowns can be washed at your pleasure. You see I am an old soldier in this sort of battle-field, and keep my armor always at hand." All this, spoken in a cheerful, business-like manner, gave Margaret time to recover herself; without a word of thanks on the one hand, or of demur on the other, she accepted the situation, took off her outer garments and hung them up, and turning to Mrs. Grey, asked, as if all that was befalling her was an every-day occurrence: "When is my mother coming?" "I am going for her now. She thinks she is merely to call here to bid you farewell, and then go and languish her life away among strangers." And then, as Margaret was going to speak, she said: