All through that day, with only the respite of some ten or fifteen minutes, when she retired to eat alone the frugal repast of bread and cold meat that she had brought with her for her dinner, did Anna stand behind the shop-man's counter, attending to his customers with a cheerful air and often a smiling countenance. She spoke to no one of the pain in her breast, back, and side; and none of those around her dreamed that, from extreme lassitude, she could scarcely stand beside the counter. To her, suffering as she did, the hours passed slowly and heavily away. It seemed as if evening would never come--as if she would have to yield the struggle, much as she strove to keep up for the sake of those she loved. But even to the weary, the heavy laden, and the prisoner, the slow lingering hours at length pass on, and the moment of respite comes. The shadows of evening at last began to fall dimly around, and Anna retired from her position of painful labour, and took her way homeward. But not even the anticipation of speedily joining those she loved, had power so to buoy up her spirits, that her body could rise above its depressed and weakened condition. Her weary steps were slowly taken, and it seemed to her that she should never be able to reach home. Many, very many depressing thoughts passed through her mind as she proceeded slowly on her homeward way. The condition of her sister Ellen troubled her exceedingly. About one-third of her own and Mary's earnings were required to keep her and her little ones from absolute suffering; and Mary, like herself, she too plainly perceived to be rapidly sinking under her burdens. "What is to be done when we fail, heaven only knows!" she murmured, as a vivid consciousness of approaching extremity arose in her mind. As she said this, the idea of her brother presented itself, with the hope that he would now exert for them a sustaining and supporting energy--that he would be to them at last a brother. But this thought, that made her heart leap in her bosom, she put aside with an audible-- "No,--no,--Do not rest on such a feeble hope!" At last her hand was upon the latch, and she lifted it and entered. "I am glad to see you home again, Anna," Alfred said, with an expression of real pleasure and affection; as she came in. "And I am glad to see you sitting up and looking so well, brother," Anna replied, her gloomy thoughts at once vanishing. "How do you feel now?" "O, I feel much better, sister. In a few days I hope I shall be able to go out. But how are you? It seems to me that you do not look well." "I do feel very much fatigued, Alfred," Anna said, while her tone, in spite of her effort to make it appear cheerful, became sad. "We are not permitted in our store to sit down for a moment, and I get so tired by night that I can hardly keep up." "But surely, Anna, you do not stand up all day long."