The principal object in the porch, however, was an old man seated in a huge armed-chair of unpainted oak, with a splint bottom worn smooth by constant use. The chair stood near the back entrance, and the old man seemed quite too large and unwieldy for any attempt at exercise; but his broad, rosy face was turned toward the door, as he heard Enoch Sharp and his sister coming through the kitchen; and one of the frankest smiles you ever beheld, beamed from his soft brown eyes over the benevolent expanse of his face. "Well, Nathan, what do you want of me?" inquired the austere lady in her usual cold tones. The good man seemed taken aback by this short address. He looked at the Judge as if for help, saying, "Hasn't he told you, Hannah?" "Yes, he wants us to keep this little thing in yonder, and let others pay us for it. I don't sell kindness--do you, Nathan?" "No, no, certainly not; but then, Hannah, you must reflect; the Judge's own house is not exactly suited for a person like this little girl; and if we don't take her who will?" The woman stood musing, her cold face unchanged, her eyes cast thoughtfully downward. "You see, sister," persisted uncle Nathan, "this little girl isn't as the Judge says, a sort of person to make a pet of, like the one Mrs. Farnham has adopted." Aunt Hannah started, and looked up with one of those sharp glances, that we have once seen disturb the cold monotony of her face. There was something in the name of Mrs. Farnham, that seemed to sting her into life. "She isn't handsome, you know," persisted the good man, "but you won't care for that, Hannah. The Judge says she's a bright, good little creature, and she'll be company for us, don't you think so?" Aunt Hannah looked at the Judge, who stood regarding her with some degree of anxiety. "Judge," she said, "that woman yonder? She is rich, and these two children loved each other--why did she send this girl to me?" "She did not; I brought her without her knowledge," said the Judge. "Young Farnham first suggested it." "Young Farnham?" said the woman, and a glow came to her forehead. "But why were they put asunder?" "Mrs. Farnham seems to have taken a dislike to poor Mary," was the reply. "The other child is very pretty, and this was a great recommendation, for a lady like her, you know; besides my ward was very anxious that you should take charge of her." The quick fire once more came to aunt Hannah's eyes. She drew herself up, and looking at Enoch Sharp, said, with a degree of feeling very unusual to her, "Judge Sharp, you can go home. I will take the girl and bring her up after my own fashion; but, as for your money, we are not poor enough--my brother and I--to sell kindness--not, not even to him." The Judge would have spoken, but aunt Hannah waved her hand, after her usual cold, stately fashion, saying, "take the girl--or leave her with me." "But she will be a burden upon you!" he began to say.